Art of Balance
by Dracoisalooker76
Summary: "His purpose, as their friend, is to be supportive – in good times and in bad." The gang, from kindergarten to adulthood. The ups and downs and the ins and outs of their friendship. Eventual TJ/Spinelli
1. Kindergarten

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

 _Notes at the end._

* * *

 **Art of Balance**

* * *

The strong bond of friendship is not always a balanced equation; friendship is not always about giving and taking in equal shares. Instead, friendship is grounded in a feeling that you know exactly who will be there for you when you need something, no matter what or when.  
-Simon Sinek

* * *

 **Prologue**

Kindergarten

 _September 1997_

Today is his first day of school.

Becky told him last night that the first day of school is the Most Important Day. It is the day where everyone makes their opinion of who you are based on three things: what you wear, who you sit next to in class, and who you play with at recess. Because it is his _very_ first day, it is even more important for him than for her, because if he makes a wrong choice for any of the three Most Important Things, he may be relegated to a school career of a lack-luster identity or, even worse, no identity at all.

So, as they walk into the school building, Becky frolicking ahead to her classroom to meet her friends and show them her very special first day of school outfit, TJ clutches his mother's hand so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Becky told him that he couldn't cry. Crying is for the first day of preschool. If he cries today, the school will forever know him as "Crier Boy" and good luck to him for the next seven years he attends Third Street School. So, instead, he holds onto his mother's hand and grinds his teeth. He will not be known as Crier Boy.

His mother guides him to the door of the kindergarten classroom and they step inside together. There are lots of other kids and lots of other parents. His teacher, Mrs. Klemperer, is an older woman with a big smile that also looks a bit apprehensive as she makes the rounds from family to family. His sister also had Mrs. Klemperer, so when she comes to him and his mother, the two women converse easily and Mrs. Klemperer mentions how much she loved Becky and makes a comment about how she imagines TJ will be just as sweet as his older sister. His mother laughs and says that the two are certainly different, but that he is a great little boy and that she is proud of him.

And then she tries to let go of his hand.

"TJ, honey, it's time to be brave," she says. "Look at all these kids just waiting to meet you! You are going to have so much fun!"

But, when he looks around, TJ can't help but think that he doesn't know any of these kids. Not one of them went to preschool with him and he's afraid that no one will like him like they did at Little Tykes Preschool.

He turns back to his mother. "What if I don't make any friends?"

She just shakes her head. "Don't let Becky scare you, sweetheart. You'll make plenty of friends. Just be yourself."

She pries his hand out of her own and kisses his forehead. She waves goodbye and TJ is determined not to cry, but as his mother disappears through the doorway, he can't help but notice his lip quiver. He wills himself to stop, remembering what his sister told him. Becky has been to school for as long as he has been alive and she definitely knows what she's talking about, or at least more than he does.

So, first things first, he needs to pick a seat. The second Most Important Thing after his clothes is whom he sits next to in class.

There are not many kids sitting yet. There is a boy with curly auburn hair sobbing in his father's arms. There is a girl looking annoyed as her parents sob on her. A taller girl with glasses is inspecting the chairs with her equally tall equally bespectacled dad and there is a group of girls slightly to her right all wearing purple outfits. There are lots of other families too, still hugging, still trying to uncling their children from their legs. There are only two or three kids sitting – a boy in a Cub Scout uniform, a large blond boy who is eating a snack, and a boy with a few baseball cards in his hands. Seeing that, TJ straightens up and decides that this is the boy he will sit next to – and moseys on over.

In Mrs. Klemperer's introduction letter, she had told the kids that they could bring a special toy from home for the first day, something that could make them comfortable as they started at their big school, an item that they would share with the rest of the class. TJ brought his very favorite baseball hat. His dad had bought it for him when they went to their first baseball game, driving all the way from Arkansas to St. Louis to see the Cardinals play over the summer, a special trip for his fifth birthday. He has rarely taken the hat off all summer and, although Becky told him not to wear it, he put it in his bag as his comfort object. The boy with the baseball cards will definitely understand this and maybe TJ will make his first friend.

TJ sits down in the desk chair next to the boy, at a clump of four desks with the two across from them still unoccupied. The other boy looks up, eyes wide at the fact that someone decided to sit next to him, and TJ remembers that his mom told him to be brave.

"Hi, I'm TJ and I like baseball too – do you wanna be my friend?"

The boy gives a small smile and shows him the cards. TJ appreciates that they're all Cardinals players, so he reaches into his little red backpack and withdraws his cap. The boy seems to relax instantaneously at the gesture.

"Sure, I'm Vince."

TJ tells him all about the game he went to and Vince tells him that he likes all sports – baseball, basketball, football. His dad takes him to all the high school games and TJ thinks that sounds like fun. By the time Mrs. Klemperer instructs all the kids to find a seat, TJ and Vince have decided that they will go to the football game together on Friday night if their parents say it is okay and that they have so much to talk about at recess. They are now best friends. TJ decides in that moment that he made a good choice, just like Becky told him to, and feels comfortable for the first time all morning. Maybe this school thing isn't so hard after all.

Once everyone is in their seats, the two seats across from TJ and Vince filled by two identical boys with overalls, Mrs. Klemperer decides it is time for the class to introduce themselves. She points to one of the desk clumps and a little blonde girl in a purple outfit begins to tell the class about her special object.

"My name is Ashley and my favorite number is one and my favorite color is pink and I brought my Pretty Princess make-up kit as my special toy."

"No way!" One of the other girls at the table says. Suddenly all three of them have removed the same toy from their backpacks. "I brought _my_ Pretty Princess make up kit!"

"Me too!"

When they all squeal and reveal they are all named Ashley, TJ and Vince share a look. Girls. They'll need to stay away from them.

"So just remember," Vince whispers. "Ashleys are trouble."

TJ nods. And, when the crying boy from earlier says his name is Randall and he brought his spy-cam, he and Vince decide to stay away from Randall too.

Mrs. Klemperer moves on calling on the different desk clumps and finally reaches theirs.

"TJ, why don't you start for your table?" she asks.

So TJ goes. Then Vince is instructed to go. Then Mrs. Klemperer points to one of the twins, Sam, and calls him Dave, and the two look mortified at the mistake. It takes ten minutes for the two to describe their color coded outfit scheme and then, clearly frustrated, Mrs. Klemperer moves on to the next table, motioning to a small dark haired girl at one of the last clumps.

"Ash-"

Before Mrs. Klemperer can finish calling her name, the girl stands on her chair and raises a fist. TJ's eyes widen.

"I wanna go by Spinelli!" she says in a rush, trying to beat Mrs. Klemperer. "And if you call me anything else, you can talk to Madame Fist."

TJ takes a good look at this girl. She doesn't look very threatening. Her hair is in two low ponytails on either side of her head. The small amount of dark hair she has bunches at the bottom of the elastics as if she hasn't pulled it all the way through. She's wearing a red dress that looks very fancy to TJ, almost similar to the dress his mother made his sister wear to his uncle's wedding last March, with big capped sleeves and a large white sash with a bow. Under her arm, she has a doll, what must be her special toy.

No, the girl may not look intimidating, but TJ glances around and sees his entire class has focused on her fist and the fact that she has a little bit of a funny voice. It is almost like she's got a cold, sort of gravelly, kind of nasally. It's unlike anything TJ has heard or seen before.

Mrs. Klemperer is even taken aback it seems because when the little girl sits back down, she immediately motions for the girl across the table to begin introducing herself instead, not insisting that Spinelli answer any of the other questions they had all been forced to answer.

As the new girl, Gretchen, begins to answer, TJ turns to Vince. "We need to find her at recess."

Vince's eyes widen. "Are you crazy?" he exclaims quietly. "Why?"

TJ just shakes his head. "She's going to be our other best friend."

Vince gives him a look that TJ is sure means that Vince is unwilling to invite this girl into their duo. But, Becky told TJ to be very careful in determining his recess playgroup and this girl seems to be the most confident person in their class. He thinks it will be good to have her around, important even to have her with them when they're trying to establish themselves.

So, TJ tells this to Vince, who sighs dramatically and shakes his head.

"Okay," he says, drawing it out. "But, she might say no."

If she does, then she does, but he at least wants to try.

At recess, TJ Detweiler is a boy on a mission. As Vince keeps trying to tug him in other directions – "Oh, look at those twins digging, that looks...nah, that doesn't look fun, but what about that kid with the Cub Scout uniform? He looks like he might like baseball, so maybe he can join our group instead!" – TJ looks around the playground to see if he can find the fist-wielding girl from earlier.

"There!" TJ shouts and starts charging for the monkey bars.

He is so focused that he misses Vince's dramatic sigh and roll of his eyes before he reluctantly follows his new friend to where the crazy girl is playing. But, when TJ stops at the monkey bars, he feels Vince come up beside him and knows his plan will work.

"Hey!"

The girl dangles by her arms and looks down, as if she isn't sure if TJ is calling out to her or someone else. She stares for a long moment that makes TJ swallow his spit. Her gaze is even intimidating. Then she lets go, dropping down to the ground gracefully. Now that she stands before him, he realizes that she is small but not as small as he thought. The two stand nearly eye-to-eye, both coming still substantially shorter than Vince.

"Hi," TJ says, being brave just like his mother told him to be this morning. This girl is in the same situation he is in after all. She needs friends too, presumably. "I'm TJ."

"A–," she says, catching herself in a weird way. Almost like she forgot her own name. "Spinelli."

Then she turns to look at Vince, waiting for his introduction. The boy doesn't say a word until TJ nudges him.

He grunts. "Vince," he says after, his eyes still looking off at the other clusters of kids, all grouping off by gender to form their friend groups.

Before Vince can blow it, TJ cuts back in. "We were wondering if you wanted to be best friends with us."

"Best friends, huh?" she says, testing the words on her own tongue.

She seems to be looking them over and TJ wonders if maybe she is doing the same thing he did to her earlier, trying to gauge his worth as a friend. Perhaps she has an older sibling that told her what Becky had told him or perhaps she's just wary. There were many kids in their class that TJ wouldn't want to include in his immediate playground crew. Randall didn't seem fun and, even though he is friends with Menlo from Little Tykes Preschool, the kindergartener from the other class is sitting on the stoop of the school organizing rather than playing. The twins that sat across from Vince and TJ in class are digging in the sandbox. They don't quite have what TJ is looking for in best friends. Then there are the four girls all named Ashley and all dressed in purple who haven't left each other's sides since they pulled out their makeup play sets during introductions. He and Vince already decided back in the classroom that anyone named Ashley couldn't be any good and definitely not someone they want to add to their own group.

He wonders what Spinelli thinks as she looks at him and Vince. Is she trying to remember their show-and-tell items? Is she debating on whether they'll be trustworthy or kind?

"Okay," she decides. Then she looks over her shoulder and motions for someone else. "We'll be friends with you."

TJ hadn't seen her playing with anyone else. He and Vince share a quick glance between them, wondering what they've gotten themselves into now, when two shy figures poke their head out from behind the small slide attached to the jungle gym. TJ recognizes them both from class. The girl is tall and lanky, with auburn pigtails and glasses that are much too large for her face. Her teeth jut out of her mouth and dig into her lower lip. The boy is even taller than Vince and nearly as wide as his height, his flaxen hair covering wide blue eyes. TJ remembers the Ashleys laughing at him during show-and-tell, hearing them call him fat.

The girl has collected her own little crew of misfits.

Vince grabs TJ's arm and gives him a look. "TJ," he whines quietly. He pulls him slightly away, enough out of earshot. "You said that your sister told you to be careful who we make friends with today."

That is right. Becky told him that who he makes friends with today could shape the rest of his time at Third Street School, and perhaps even after that. He knows he likes Vince. They have a lot in common. He knows he wants to be friends with Spinelli. She has confidence and he just gets a good feeling from her. He turns back to the other two. He doesn't know much about them, but he feels like he can trust Spinelli's judgment because of how much she regarded him before agreeing.

In that moment, the boy with the Cub Scout uniform slips on the monkey bars. His scream rings out for a split second before the tall blond boy, who dodges Spinelli to reach their falling classmate, catches him with ease.

"Wow! Thanks, Big Kid!" the Cub Scout says, as the tall boy sets him down on the ground. He leaves the area, shouting over his shoulder as he goes. "Thanks for saving me!"

"Why, yes," the spectacled girl says, pushing her glasses up her nose. "From that height, the fall would surely have caused Phil to break an arm or a leg."

But the blond boy just keeps looking down at his feet and mumbles about being called Big Kid. So, TJ does the only thing he can think to do to make him feel better. He walks over to the tall blond boy and smiles.

"I'm TJ, what's your name?"

The boy lifts his eyes and looks down at TJ. "Mikey."

"Mikey," he repeats and then TJ turns to the girl. "And your name?"

"My name is Gretchen."

TJ looks around the group. Vince, Spinelli, Gretchen, and Mikey. This seems like a fine group to him. So, he motions for Vince to come back and the boy walks forward, standing between TJ and Gretchen. Spinelli comes to stand between TJ and Mikey. There they are, in a circle, and TJ suggests they all re-introduce their special item from class. Mikey brought in a stuffed Bonky and Gretchen a rock polisher. Vince holds out his baseball cards for the others to see and Spinelli shows her doll. Then TJ holds out his baseball cap.

"Why don't you wear it?" Spinelli asks. She reaches for it and puts it on his head, backwards. "It _is_ a hat and hats go on your head."

"She's right, Teej," Vince says.

When the bell rings, the five of them walk in together, pulling a desk from one of the other clumps to make a clump of five. As Mrs. Klemperer begins her lesson, TJ just looks at his new friends. He's not sure if this is the group his sister would have built for him, but he likes it just the same.

...

 _Notes_

 _There are many different accounts in the series as to how these kids met but I decided to go with my own retelling of TJ's recollection in the episode_ The Great Jungle Gym Standoff, _where he mentions that the original five met on the monkey bars on the first day of school. I did move their meeting location to the kindergarten area monkey bars rather than the ones on Old Rusty, as it made more sense there than on the "Big Playground" where the kindergarteners don't usually go. The date of their first day of kindergarten (1997) assumes that they were in fourth grade when the show ended in 2001, rather than when the show premiered in 1998._

 _There will be some moments of creative license used throughout this fic, but my goal is to keep it as in-line with the original series as I can. There are a few instances of this in this prologue (i.e. "Purple Day" is inferred to be on a day other than the first day of school, since Gus is around in the episode_ Outcast Ashley _) but I hope the slight alterations will still stay in line with major themes of the series. That being said, as for the war paint the kindergarteners typically wear in the series – because the series is told from the point of view of the kids (and arguably mostly TJ's point of view), I'm taking the paint as a war-like childhood illusion and not something the kindergarteners actually wear on a daily basis, though the paint will show up in a later flashback._

 _I will also be taking the stance in this fic that Sam and Dave (The Diggers) are identical twins (as alluded in_ The Terrifying Tales of Recess _) rather than just best friends who look exactly alike (as alluded in_ Diggers Split Up _). They'll be referred to in this fic as Sam and Dave, The Diggers, as well as "the twins" as the characters get older._

 _There will be a time jump after the prologue and the story will follow the main six as an ensemble like in the show. Each of the six (as well as some of the other Third Streeters) will be lending their voices to narration, not just TJ as in this prologue._

 _I'm hoping to get more of this written before I start posting, as I know I will be very busy in the fall and have more time to actually sit down and right in the summer. So, hold tight and I'll be posting the first chapter toward the end of the summer, right in line with the start of school, and hopefully have a fairly consistent updating schedule._

 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!_


	2. 6th Grade

6th Grade, Third Street Elementary  
Age: 11-12

 _June 2004_

 _..._

Gus races out the door and into the recess yard, upset that it was his duty to dismiss the class today. Their teacher has this thing where one student has to make sure the class is being silent before they can go to recess and as the students quiet he is able to dismiss them out the door. It was implemented both as a way to instill leadership in the students and as a punishment for the excessive chattiness their class can't seem to stop. Gus is convinced that Ashley B and Ashley Q use his turns as the dismisser to torture him. They love to keep giggling, even minutes after the recess bell has rung and everyone else in their class is outside enjoying the short period they get to play.

But, finally, he's free. Now he just needs to find his friends.

Instead, he finds Butch. The boy stands against the wall, looking forlorn out at the schoolyard. Gus should keep moving. He knows he should. But he doesn't.

"Hey, Butch, why the long face?"

Butch sighs and adjusts the toothpick in his mouth. Then he looks down at Gus, shakes his head, and turns back to the playground.

"Look, Gus. No one on this playground has any idea what's ahead of us."

Gus clasps his hands together and debates asking Butch to explain. On the one hand, Butch is known around the playground for his terrifying, and often exaggerated, tales. On the other hand, Gus hasn't seen Butch look this freaked out since he caught his older brother kissing a girl.

He decides to risk it. "What do you mean?"

Butch opens his arms, gesturing toward the playground.

"See this stuff? That's the past," he says. "We only have three more days left until summer vacation."

"I know," Gus cuts in excitedly. "I'm so pumped for camp!"

Butch turns to glare at him and Gus swallows the rest of his thoughts, allowing the other boy to continue.

"We only have three recesses left until summer vacation," Butch says, starting over. "And, for the majority of the kids on this here playground, that's great. They get a few weeks off, go to camp, and then right back here they come. But not us, Gus. Not us. We're going to _middle school_."

Gus gulps. He has been nervous about moving onto seventh grade. They all went to the open house last week at Spiro T. Agnew Middle School with their parents and everything seemed so...big. There were more kids per class. They would have more than one teacher and have to move between classrooms to learn. Plus, there was going to be all sorts of new people – kids from two of the other elementary schools in town, 13th Street and 98th Street. That meant more Gelmans, more Lawsons, more Ashleys. Gus doesn't even like dealing with the bullies he and his friends already deal with at Third Street. Adding in more of them? He shivers.

They have been fairly successful on their little playground keeping everything orderly. But, with more bullies and mean girls, how on earth are the six of them going to keep everything going smoothly?

TJ and the rest don't seem too concerned. In fact, they've been trying to prepare him and help him settle his nervous energy by talking about what makes them excited about starting middle school. Vince is excited for the sports teams. Mikey can't wait to join drama and chorus. Gretchen is convinced she will have more fun doing science club with other people than having the club all to herself like she does here.

"I heard middle school isn't that bad," Gus says.

"Not that bad, huh?" Butch shakes his head and pulls out his toothpick, tossing it to the ground and stomping on it. "My big brother Joey says middle school is a whole lot different than elementary school."

The way Butch says it gives Gus the chills. "Uh, how different?"

Obviously the structure is different. There are only two grades, seventh and eighth, compared to Third Street that teaches students from kindergarten to sixth. There are teachers for each subject. They no longer have recess. But, he worries about what isn't obvious, about what Butch seems to think is so important.

"Well, you see, Gus, Joey told me all sorts of stories, trying to prepare me and everything. Spiro T. Agnew is a beast in and of itself. With no recess and weird class schedules, you may not see your friends all day long. You go from class to class with random new people and then, when you get on the bus, you find your seat taken by some other kid."

"Some other kid?" Gus breathes.

Butch nods his head slowly.

"Yup. Middle school just makes you replaceable." He turns back out to the playground. "Look out at all these friend groups. In a year, I bet half of them won't even talk to each other anymore."

"That's a lie," Gus shouts. He can't afford to think anything else.

"That's what I said too," Butch says, sighing and kicking a pebble with the toe of his sneaker. "But then Joey made a good point."

Gus crosses his arms, not believing him but falling for the bait anyway. "What point?"

Butch turns back, his eyes wide, the white streak in his hair more prominent than usual.

"None of his friends went to Third Street," he says. "Not a single one."

Gus's heart stops beating.

As soon as it starts again, he takes off, sprinting toward the playground. He has to find his friends and tell them what Butch just revealed. His palms are sweaty. His stomach is queasy. He needs them to tell him that this is just another one of Butch's crazy stories – like the kissing story or the time he told them about Stinky Peterson's fatal fortune from the paper fortune teller.

But, as much as Butch's stories are far-fetched, he is too scared by the possibility of this one to disprove it himself.

First, he checks the Ashleys' clubhouse, thinking that he'll walk in late on a prank, but there is no sign of either the Ashleys or his friends. The doors are locked and he can't see any of the telltale signs of his friends anywhere nearby. He takes a look around the playground. They're not at the tetherball pole nor are they at the four square. He highly doubts they would be at the Fifth and Sixth Graders' Club. Despite TJ being king with access to the code in and out, none of them have been welcomed there since the fiasco the previous year.

He looks to the giant jungle gym in the center of the schoolyard. Mikey and Vince's official spots at the bottom of Old Rusty have been occupied all week with new junior guards, fifth graders in training for next year. And, if Gus is being honest, TJ has spent less time on his throne than King Bob ever spent off of it. King TJ has played more games of kickball, dodgeball, and baseball than any king in the history of Third Street, often times making playground rulings from the pitcher's mound rather than from the old beaten-up armchair at the top of Old Rusty.

So, where is everyone?

Finally, he spots one of his friends. Mikey sits in the sandbox with Hector and Tubby, so Gus starts to make his way over there. He can tell Mikey and then once Mikey is in on the tale they can go out and gather the rest.

"Mikey!" Gus shouts. "Mikey!"

All three boys turn as Gus runs closer. They are in the process of building a sandcastle. Each of the second graders has some figurines that Ms. Finster would confiscate in two seconds if she saw. Mikey is a pushover when it comes to the little ones, but as Gus's official title is Overseer of the Younger Grades, a title created and given to him by TJ on the first day of school when the newly appointed king chose Mikey and Vince as bodyguards, Gus has a duty to warn them.

"Hector! Tubby! What have I told you about bringing toys from home?" Gus asks the two second graders. The redheads both try to hide the figurines behind their backs. "Those toys aren't allowed and if Randall sees, Ms. Finster will take them away for the rest of the year. Do you want her to do that?"

"No, but–"

"No buts, Hector," Gus says. "You should put them away or you won't have them until summer vacation."

The two younger boys sigh and put the toys back in their bags. Tubby looks up at Mikey.

"How are we going to tell the story now?" he asks.

Mikey shakes his head.

"With our imagination," he says. Then he turns to Gus. "Come join us, my friend. Tubby and Hector are helping guide the story of this grand castle. They've just named the great brigade of knights that protect this burgeoning structure, the castle of–"

"That's great, Mikey," Gus says, cutting him off. This is important. "But, Butch–"

"Gus, sit down and listen," Hector whines. "Mikey was just getting to the good part."

"Yes, Mikey, please continue," Tubby insists. "What happens next?"

"But, Mikey, it's important!" Gus says. "Butch said–"

Mikey pats the sand next to him as he cuts in.

"Gus, my friend, you're hysterical," he says. "I thought we all decided last year after Butch told us that story about girls and the full moon that we were not going to listen to him anymore."

Gus kicks the sand. That _is_ right. Butch told the boys a crazy story last year about girls and the cycle of the moon – they weren't too sure on the exact details – and they spent the whole week leading up to the upcoming full moon waiting for Spinelli and Gretchen to turn into angry, possessed monsters. The four boys even hid out in the bush under Gretchen's window to spy on them during their sleepover the night of the full moon. But they made too much noise and Spinelli spotted them.

The girls had been so angry. Gretchen actually yelled at them for being...what did she call them? _Dim-witted and ignorant of the scientific process of the female anatomy_ he thinks may have been the words she used. Regardless, the boys promised to never believe anything else Butch said again.

"But, Mikey, this _seems_ real!" Gus insists. "This is actually scary!"

Mikey again pats the sand. "Sit down, my friend, and give your mind over to creative energy. Let the fear seep out of your pores and indulge in the–"

"Mikey!" Tubby shouts. "The Queen and her Lady are still trapped in the castle by the evil Lord Randy. King Theo and the Knights of the Playground Rusty need to get them out!"

Gus turns and raises an eyebrow at Mikey, who shrugs.

"When you're strapped on time, it's easier to use characters with set personalities." Mikey gestures to the two younger boys as he adds the next bit. "It's sort of a choose your own path story. They're filling in the characters as we go with actual kids just so we know how they should react."

Gus sighs and sits next to Mikey. He might have to sit through the rest of this story before he can tell his friend about Butch.

"Okay, so Randall's the villain. Who are the other characters?"

Hector actually rolls his eyes and Gus is surprised by the attitude. His former kindergarten buddy is growing up quickly.

"You, Mikey, Vince, and TJ are trying to save Spinelli and Gretchen from Randall," he says. Then he repeats himself using the character names. "So, King Theo and his knights – the fast Sir Vincelot, the strong Sir Michael, and Sir Gustav the Brave – need to hurry up or the recess bell is gonna ring before they can save Queen Spinelli and Lady Gretchen from the evil Lord Randy."

Gus looks over his shoulders for the girls before turning to Mikey.

"If Spinelli finds out that she is trapped by Randall in your story, she is going to murder you," he says through his teeth so the younger boys won't hear. "Gretchen won't be happy either actually."

"Well, the plan was that when the King and the Knights of the 'Round Rusty got to the top of the castle to save them, they had already escaped and saved themselves," Mikey reasons.

Hector shrieks. "No! You ruined the story!"

"I didn't want to know the end!" Tubby shouts, covering his ears with his hands. "I didn't want to know!"

Mikey throws his arms up, ready to calm them down before they revert to their former kindergarten ways. Gus uses this time to slip out, well aware that at any second they could throw a full-on tantrum and that it's kind of his fault.

But, then again, if Mikey had just come with him in the first place, this wouldn't have been an issue.

Once Gus is far enough away, he stops to glance around the playground in order to find the others. Swinger Girl is swinging. Upside Down Girl is upside down. The Diggers are digging. Randall is snooping near the water fountain. The fourth and fifth graders have a game today on the kickball field, so his friends wouldn't be there. How come he can find everyone else but his friends are in none of their normal spots? This is one of their final recesses. He would think everyone would be together.

Maybe Butch is right.

Gus sees Gretchen at a picnic table and breathes out a sigh of relief. Gretchen knows everything, so she'll know whether what Butch said has any truth to it _and_ she'll have the statistics to back up her opinion. Even if for some reason she doesn't know, she will know where the others are to talk about it. Gus races over, ready to have her debunk the crazy theory Butch told him.

She has Galileo out, fiddling with it and looking down at a manual about the size of a phone book. Occasionally, she shoots a look down the table at Judy Wertz. The other girl sits at the far end of the picnic table, her dictionary in front of her, spelling words aloud like she always does. It seems to be annoying Gretchen because she keeps looking up and glaring, probably having a hard time concentrating with the constant hum of Judy's mumbling.

"Hey, Gretchen!"

She doesn't look up from Galileo as she presses a few buttons in what looks like a specific order.

"Hello, Gus."

"Whatcha up to?"

She presses a few more buttons, glances at the manual, presses another couple of buttons, and then looks up. Behind her, Judy spells obsessed – "O-B-S-E-S-S-E-D, obsessed."

Gretchen rolls her eyes.

"I'm attempting to update the software on Galileo," she says. Gus looks down and sees the little green frog on the screen flipping in circles. "You see, Vince asked if Galileo could create an optimized nutrition plan for him to follow over the summer in preparation for fall football tryouts. However, I needed to install an additional software package that included specifics for..."

The rest of her explanation just sounds like jibberish, so Gus tunes her out until he sees her lips stop moving.

"Wait. If you're doing that for Vince, where is he?"

She shakes her head.

"I'm not _just_ doing it for Vince," she says. "This software will be very beneficial for next year's science laboratory projects as well as tracking specific data points..."

Again with the jibberish.

She jerks her head toward the kickball field.

"As for your actual question, Vince is over there, attempting to train the fourth graders how to – how did he say it? – 'excel Vintastically,'" she uses air quotes as she says it.

Gus frowns. Sensing his confusion, Gretchen elaborates.

"Essentially," she explains. "He is trying to make it so they do not lose every single game next year."

Okay, that makes sense. The fourth graders this year are _really_ bad kickball players. It is like having an entire team made up of Guses and Gretchens. That means Vince will be there all recess and maybe even after school and into the evening if he wants to impart all his wisdom onto them. But, Gus figures, Gretchen will be busy that long too, based on the frog hopping on her screen. He decides to just ask her here and now, rather than waiting for the software update to complete – whenever that might be.

Judy spells obsolescent. O-B-S-O-L-E-S-C-E-N-T. He waits until she moves on to ask.

"Hey, Gretch," he says. "I need to ask you something."

She looks up from the manual and smiles. "Of course, Gus. What is it?"

"Well, you see," he says. Then he pauses. How does he start this? Mikey is right. They all decided not to listen to Butch again. "Let's just say that someone told me this thing–"

Galileo interrupts him. "Why, Gretchen! It appears the reboot didn't work properly."

"It didn't work?" Gretchen exclaims.

Down the table, Judy spells a new word. "Obstinate. O-B-S-T-I-N-A-T-E, obstinate."

Gretchen glares at her and makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

"I'm so sorry, Gus," she says, grabbing Galileo with one hand and flipping back through the manual with the other. "I must figure this out. Just give me five minutes."

Gretchen goes into her own head, flipping through pages of the manual and muttering to herself. She and Judy sound like a chorus of mumbled words that go right over Gus's head.

With a sigh, he starts heading toward for the kickball field. He doubts Vince will want to listen. Like Gretchen and her smart-people activities, Vince is always so focused when it comes to sports and when he is coaching someone it is almost worse than when he is playing himself. His coaching the fourth graders will be just like when he coached Spinelli for the beauty contest. When Vince coaches someone, he coaches to win at all costs and these fourth graders are terrible. They need all the coaching they can get.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and keeps his head down as he walks. Maybe he is wrong. Maybe Vince will want to listen. He _is_ TJ's left-hand man, so maybe that is a good sign. If anyone would want to listen it would be Vince. Then Vince would tell TJ and TJ would get everyone together.

Yeah, that's it! That's –

He slams into someone.

"Like, watch out, Griswald!"

He looks up and holds his hands up, ready to apologize to whatever Ashley he just barged into – Ashley A, by the looks of it. Ashley B is hoisting her back up to a standing position and the other two have their arms crossed, glaring at him. He gulps, ready to spew out a thousand apologies, but then he looks around and frowns. They are in the middle of the blacktop. What are they doing just standing in a circle in the middle of nowhere?

"What are you all waiting for?"

Ashley A crosses her arms like the others and glares. "Like, your stupid friend. His new _guards_ sent us away, like, what?"

"We were told that our deed to the clubhouse would be signed over to the Tylers today and it totally hasn't been," Ashley B explains. She sighs dramatically. "We had _priority_ status."

"What is he even doing up there?" Ashley Q whines. "Ugh, it's a disgrace."

He grins. So TJ is up on his throne. He is almost never up there, so that's good for Gus. That makes him easy to find. Now, rather than go to Vince, he can go straight to TJ.

Ashley A flips her hair over her shoulder. "Like, wait a minute. I have, like, a totally awesome idea."

She takes a folder out of Ashley T's hand and shoves it into Gus's chest.

"Like, _Gus_ ," she says, her voice just a little too sweet to be genuine. "Be a dear and bring this up to King TJ for us, using your, like, totally unwarranted special royal privileges and I'll totally forgive you for scuffing my shoes."

"Uh."

Ashley Q pushes Gus forward. "That's not a request, Griswald. That's an order! Go!"

He tosses a look over his shoulder at them as he starts walking. He hopes Butch's theory is correct when it comes to the Ashleys. That is one friendship he wouldn't mind seeing break up.

When he makes it to the bottom of Old Rusty, there are two fifth grade potential guards-in-training standing at the base of the jungle gym. Gus doesn't recognize them, but they recognize him.

"Go on up, Overseer of the Younger Grades," the one on the right says, using Gus's official title that TJ gave him at the beginning of the year. "The King and Queen are up there."

The two guards chuckle under their breath.

Gus frowns. He doesn't know what they mean by Queen. There is no Queen at Third Street. Who would it even be? Both girls in their group of friends were also given titles by King TJ, who insisted on giving each of his friends their own titles rather than just picking two of them to be his bodyguards and leaving the other three out of it. Everyone knows their titles. Gretchen is the Royal Brain, using her knowledge of the playground rules to help TJ with punishment decisions. Spinelli became the Royal Warden and helps oversee the punishments TJ and Gretchen decide on for the crime committed.

Since Gretchen is down with Galileo, he figures the girl on the top of Old Rusty with TJ must be Spinelli. He can't think of any other girl that TJ would have hanging around with him there. Gus just finds it odd that the two fifth graders messed up her title so badly and even odder that they laughed about it, as if they messed it up on purpose as some sort of joke.

Gus puts it out of his head and climbs the rungs, careful not to drop the Ashleys' folder. He does not want to face their wrath with only days left until the end of the year, when he gets ten glorious weeks of summer vacation without the four girls nearby. Poor Vince and TJ will be stuck with the girls for part of the summer since their baseball camp is across the lake from the cheerleading camp the Ashleys attend. It makes Gus all the more pleased that he never joined baseball when he moved to Arkansas, despite TJ and Vince both asking him to join their little league team.

He ascends to the top of the jungle gym. TJ and Spinelli are both up there, just as he figured. Finally, he has found some of his friends who don't look too busy to talk to him.

"Gus!" TJ exclaims, a happy smile curving onto his face. "How's recess so far?"

"Someone bugging you?" Spinelli asks. She raises a fist. "We can give them the ol' one-two."

Gus shakes his head. "Oh, uh, no. Nothing like that." He doesn't want Butch beaten up, just the theory debunked. "Just trying to find my friends."

"Well you found us! Take a seat," TJ says.

He gestures to the small podium that holds the king's throne and Gus walks over. It provides decent seating for the gang when they hang out at the top of Old Rusty. Spinelli and TJ have both managed to squish into the oversized armchair itself. Since Gus's last growth spurt a couple of months ago, the two are now firmly the smallest of the crew but still they just barely manage to sit side-by-side with Spinelli sort of half sitting on TJ's lap. Gus doesn't think it looks comfortable, but he supposes it must be because Spinelli isn't someone to sacrifice comfort.

He takes the seat on the podium, dropping the Ashleys' folder.

"What's that?" Spinelli asks.

He quickly attempts to grab it. "Oh, nothing. Just the, uh, something someone made me bring."

Both of them are now looking at him suspiciously and he sighs, handing the folder to TJ. He might as well just get that over with and then he won't have the Ashleys breathing down his neck. TJ opens the folder and Spinelli looks over his shoulder, rolling her eyes and glaring at Gus.

"When did you become the Ashleys' messenger boy?" she asks.

TJ gives her a look.

"Don't attack Gus," he says, pulling off his hat and removing a small pen he keeps there for safe keeping. He signs the paper and hands it back. "There. That should keep them quiet."

"I thought we were gonna make them grovel for it," Spinelli grumbles.

"We were. Until they brought Gus into it," he tells her, putting his cap back on. Then, to sway the conversation away from the Ashleys, he turns back to Gus and says, "So you couldn't find anyone else all recess? Where are they?"

"I mean, it isn't that I didn't find them," he mumbles. "But they were all busy with other stuff."

"I'm sure they weren't too busy for you," TJ insists, trying his hardest to ensure Gus feels included as always.

TJ is always doing that, not just for Gus but for everyone in the group. The sentiment lifts the corners of Gus's lips just a smidge.

He nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"King TJ! King TJ!"

The three stand and look over the side of Old Rusty. The two fifth grade guards are somewhat successfully holding off a small group of third grade boys. The boys seem to be trying to climb the ladder up to the throne, each of them more panicked than the next.

"You can let them up!" TJ shouts. Then he shakes his head and talks to Gus and Spinelli. "Some of these new guards-in-training take their jobs a little too seriously."

They back up as the boys climb over the top of Old Rusty and take their stances. A few of them kneel down, bowing their heads, while one who is clearly the leader of their group steps forward. He lifts his head and holds out his hands, a typical stance for the younger members of the playground when they approach royalty. TJ shakes him off, but the boy keeps up the traditional stance as he addresses the king.

"Oh, King TJ," he says. "We've traveled the vast expanses of the playground in search of our friend, but we're afraid he has been captured by the kindergarteners."

Gus winces. He remembers when the kindergarteners kidnapped TJ a few years ago. They kept him hostage for so long TJ forgot he was a big kid and was taking naps. He wonders how long the poor boy has been lost. Recess must be nearly over by now and if they don't find him he may be lost for good.

TJ turns to Spinelli. "Come on, Warden. Let's go solve this hostage situation."

"Sweet," she says. Then, noticing the glares from the boys, she bites her tongue. "I mean, shucks. Poor kid."

TJ steps forward and puts a hand on the leader of the group's shoulders. "Spinelli and I will go solve the hostage situation personally. So, rather than come with us and get involved, why don't you all wait somewhere for him?"

"Thank you, King TJ! We'll wait near the water fountain!"

Then all the boys thank him profusely as they climb down the side of Old Rusty and out of view. Once they're out of sight, Spinelli kicks her boot into the side of the throne.

"Perfectly good last few minutes of recess and we're stuck dealing with kindergarteners," she grumbles, crossing her arms and scowling. She groans. "When will the little kids ever learn to stay away from the kindergarten gate?"

TJ shrugs and gestures for her to start down first. She disappears down over the side and TJ turns to Gus.

"Feel free to hang out on my throne or I think Vince might be over at the kickball field if you want," he says. "We'll be right back. Hopefully. Keep your fingers crossed that they're being cooperative today."

Then TJ disappears as well.

It is only as Gus watches TJ and Spinelli walk toward the kindergarten area that he realizes he should be the one to go. He _is_ Overseer of the Younger Grades. This is his domain of the playground, dealing with the youngest kids, but TJ didn't even think to bring him along. Instead, he brought Spinelli, who as Warden probably should have gone as well in case they needed to threaten the kindergarteners with punishments to get them to release the hostage, but not more than Gus.

He sighs and starts down the side of Old Rusty, just like the rest of them did. Maybe Butch's theory isn't so bogus after all. He isn't even in seventh grade yet and he can't help feel like he is already being forgotten.

He waves to the two fifth graders at the bottom of the jungle gym and then heads off to find the Ashleys. He needs to give them the papers before he loses them. Once he finds the girls and hands off their sacred documents, he looks around the playground for somewhere to go.

He ultimately finds himself on the playground roundabout, memories of the Ashleys' crazy rating system flooding into his head. The pigeons beside him are probably not the same ones he called his peers when he was told he was a zero. He shivers at the memory but, in that moment, when he had accepted that he had no value at all, TJ and the rest were there to take down the system.

Now, here he sits. Again. The pigeons cooing beside him. TJ and Spinelli ditching him. Mikey and Vince playing with the younger kids. Gretchen so focused on Galileo. Maybe Butch really is right. Maybe next year their little band of negative-fives in the Ashleys' crazy rating scale, the kids that stuck together through thick and thin, will be nothing more than has-beens and what's-his-names.

This is the only place he has ever felt like he belonged and now...

He sniffles, embarrassed but also too sad to care. He doesn't want new friends. He wants to keep the ones he has.

Spinelli who goes to Kelso's with him when he is feeling bad and races him in milkshake drinking contests. Mikey who can make him feel better about anything in a matter of seconds with his fancy words and fantastical stories. Vince who works as hard as he can to help Gus, even when Gus is beyond help – which he is more often than not, especially when it comes to the sports Vince loves so much. Gretchen who is always there to share her knowledge with him, even if he doesn't understand it, and then dumbs it down so he can. And, TJ, the leader, and the kid Gus thought would be the glue to them all.

"Gus, what are you doing?"

He looks up and quickly wipes his eyes. TJ stands in front of him, the other four just slightly behind.

"I, uh, I'm getting used to next year." They all frown. So, Gus elaborates. "You know, when I have no friends."

"What do you mean when you have no friends?" Mikey exclaims.

"Yeah, what are we? Chopped liver?" Vince asks.

TJ sits down on the roundabout beside Gus. "What made you think next year you're not going to have any friends?"

"You're not moving away, are you?" Mikey asks.

Gus shakes my head. "No, no, uh, I'll be here. At least, I haven't been told I won't." He clasps his hands together. "It's just that I was talking to Butch–"

"Oh, brother, not this again," Spinelli groans. "I thought we decided that we weren't going to listen to Butch."

TJ puts an arm around Gus, ignoring her and focusing on him. "So, what did Butch say?"

Gus recounts the story and tells them Butch's theory. Then he looks up, hoping that they'll tell him that he is just being dumb. But they all turn to Gretchen, wide-eyed, who shrugs.

"Statistically, the probability of all six of us staying friends for the remainder of our schooling experience is low," she says. "I can't give you an actual number without Galileo, but Butch's story is more likely than not."

If Gus wasn't so bummed, he might have found it comical watching Vince, Spinelli, and Mikey all turn in unison from Gretchen to TJ. Gus turns too. TJ adjusts his hat and shakes his head, the only one of them appearing unconcerned.

"Seriously?" he asks. "Butch gives one lousy example and the five of you are ready to toss our friendship to the kindergarteners."

"But, Teej," Vince says. "Statistics."

He stands and crosses his arms. "Statistics aren't about _us_. They don't mean anything – no offense, Gretch."

She shakes him off, unbothered by his statement, and he continues.

"Look, if I can stay friends with Menlo – _Menlo_ – then our friendship is going to be easy to maintain."

Gus looks up. "Really, TJ? You think so?"

"I know so," he says. "We've ruled the playground. We've saved the school. A little study hall isn't going to take us down. All we have to do is promise not to leave each other behind and fight for it."

Gus nods his head as the others all declare that they're in. They put their hands together in the middle and suddenly Gus feels a lot better. Sure, Butch's brother may not still be friends with his Third Street friends, but what's that to say Gus won't. The six of them are in this together.

"Nothing to worry about," TJ says, looking right at Gus.

The bell rings and everyone starts heading into the building, Ms. Finster standing with her arms crossed watching as they all go. Only two more recesses now. Two more days of elementary school. But, as Gus watches his friends head up the stairs, he is not afraid. Or, at least, not for the next few minutes.

...

 _Notes_ _:_

 _Episodes/Movies Referenced:_ _The Experiment, Gus' Fortune, The Beauty Contest, The Legend of Big Kid, The Ratings Game,_ _Recess: School's Out, Recess: Taking the Fifth Grade_

 _This story will span through middle and high school (and potentially beyond) and, as I said in the notes last chapter, will be written as an ensemble just like the show. Each of the main six will voice parts of the narration._

 _I already have a fair amount of this written, mostly 8_ _th_ _grade through 11_ _th_ _grade, and my friend and I have thousands of emails back and forth where she has helped me build this universe (Thanks, Abbie!). Once I've finished actually writing 7_ _th_ _grade, I'll feel more confident of a timeline for updates, but there is another update coming, so stay tuned._

 _For those of you who may have read my one-shots, you will see some similar themes, however this universe has drifted from the timeline/universe those are set in. The only one that currently fits okay into this fic universe would be "Goodbye, Third Street" and it would take place two days after this chapter. Otherwise, like I said, similar themes will be explored but the other fics I have written don't quite match this particular storyline any longer. I just don't want anyone to confuse those one-shots as tagalong fics to what this will inevitably become._

 _If anyone has any thoughts, suggestions, or feedback, please don't hesitate to let me know._

 _I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Now, onto Spiro T. Agnew Middle School._


	3. 8th Grade, Pt 1

_There is a time jump from last chapter (end of 6_ _th_ _grade) to this chapter (end of 8_ _th_ _grade)._

 _..._

8th Grade, Spiro T. Agnew Middle School

Age: 13-14

 _June 2006_

 _..._

Vince turns into the cafeteria and stops dead in his tracks, the sudden change in momentum barely keeping him from walking smack into Ashley Boulet. The girl has cut in front of him, holding a stack of bright pink envelops in her hand.

"Geez, B, what gives?" he says.

She thumbs through her stack and pulls out a pink envelope, holding it out for him to take. When he takes it and looks, he realizes it has his name in the same curly Ashley scrawl he's used to seeing, with hearts still dotting the I in his name like they're all still in elementary school.

"You're, like, totally invited to our end of the year party," she says. "It's the night before the dance and it's gonna be, like, so great."

He shakes his head. "I'll, like, so think about it," he says, mocking her tone.

The girl glares at him but pushes past to hand an envelope to another kid coming in the cafeteria. Vince just shakes his head. He had thought that moving on to middle school would make the Ashleys less...Ashley. Spiro Agnew funneled three of the six elementary schools together and he thought that would dilute their obnoxious and self-absorbed nature, but it didn't. If anything, they became worse, jockeying with a few other similar cliques for the right to be the head clique in high school.

Of course, he can't say much has changed for his friends either. Their two years of middle school haven't seemed too much different than the seven years they spent at Third Street. They're all still best friends and even if they don't share many classes or even after school activities any longer, they've made it a priority to sit with each other at lunch every day.

As he walks toward his usual table, he sees Spinelli standing near a table with some girls she plays sports with and walks over. In her hand is the same obnoxiously bright pink envelope that he just received. She must see him walking toward her because she says goodbye to the girls and meets him midway.

"I see you got a pink envelope too," he says.

She lifts it up and glares at it, like the envelope might catch fire and destroy itself under her gaze.

"Unfortunately," she grumbles. "I tried to hand it back, but Ashley A was insistent. Something about how I'll be happy I went."

She rolls her eyes as they continue on to their table. "But I don't see how that could be the case. I hate the Ashleys. I hate parties. It sounds like a lose-lose situation to me."

He nods his head. Anything involving the Ashleys never ends up good. They usually have something up their sleeves and he is glad his friends still don't cater to them the way some people in the school do. The Ashleys are nothing more than a bunch of rich girls. They're not even nice.

"We'll just have our own end-of-the-year party," he says.

Spinelli smirks. "Now that I can handle."

Only Gus and Gretchen are seated at their table when he and Spinelli sit down, Mikey and TJ probably still in the lunch line. He takes a quick glance around and sees that Gus and Gretchen also have the offensively pink envelope in front of them and that there are two other envelopes in front of the empty chairs TJ and Mikey usually sit in.

"So everyone got one of these things, huh?" Vince asks.

Gretchen nods. "Ashley T dropped all four down just a moment ago."

Gus turns to him, unbiting the lip his teeth were sunk into in order to speak.

"You don't think it's another rating system, do you?" he asks, his voice only exhibiting the slightest amount of quiver. "I don't think I can handle being another zero."

Spinelli rolls her eyes.

"It's an invitation, Jarhead," she says, using her finger to slide open the envelope flap. "An invitation to a stupid party. Or maybe it's just a joke. I'm kind of hoping it's a joke actually. I don't wanna go to no party."

Gus's eyes widen. "What are you doing?"

"I'm opening it. Duh," she says. She removes the enclosed piece of bubblegum-hued cardstock and wrinkles her nose. "What is this? Some sort of riddle?"

Gretchen has opened hers as well and a huge puff of glitter lands on the table. Gus and Vince shrug and go to open theirs as well.

Gus manages to tear into his first and his eyes widen even more. He waves his in the air and when he speaks his voice is an octave higher than usual.

"Why did they kiss mine?"

Vince pulls the actual invitation out of the envelope and skims the glittery gold ink.

" _You have been cordially invited to an exclusive End of the Year party thrown by the Ashleys. Celebrate the end of middle school by bringing your best pucker – we'll supply the rest."_

"What does it even mean?" Gus asks, done reading through his as well.

Gretchen inspects the wording again and shrugs. "A reasonable hypothesis is that they are planning a game of spin the bottle. Or perhaps another kissing game. But, regardless, my assumption is that the pucker refers to kissing."

"Spin the bottle!" Gus exclaims, his face turning bright red. "Why would they want to play spin the bottle?"

All three friends turn toward him with their eyebrows raised and Gus ducks his head.

"You know," he mumbles. "Besides the obvious."

Vince watches as Gretchen turns around, her eyes scanning the cafeteria. He looks as well. There doesn't seem to be any sort of rhyme or reason as to who is receiving the Ashleys' invitations. At first, he thought it was just the popular kids, but Ashley Q just completely bypassed Vance Lombardi. Then he looks to see if it's just former Third Streeters, but all the Ryans – the Ashley-esque clique of boys that formerly attended 13th Street School – each have a pink envelope of their own.

"I smell four skunks wearing designer perfume," Spinelli says, crossing her arms. "They're definitely up to something."

"Hold up," Vince says, standing from the table. "I'll go ask B what's going on."

He walks across the cafeteria to Ashley B, who has just handed pink envelopes to Sam and Dave but no one else at their table. As she looks through the remaining invitations, he taps her shoulder and she turns around, rolling her eyes.

"Like, what is it, LaSalle? I'm busy."

He holds up his envelope. "What is this? We're not doing anything before we find out what it really is."

Sam and Dave both turn their heads.

"Yeah," one says, at the same time that the other adds, "We wanna know too!"

"It's a party," she says.

The three boys just stare at her and Ashley B huffs.

"Fine. We're having the party because we, like, don't want to go to high school without being kissed and we figured the rest of you lot thought the same. We originally planned on spin the bottle but, like, that's too risky, so we're gonna pair everyone up for seven minutes in heaven so it's, like, totally controlled," she says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Get it?"

Sam and Dave look between each other and shrug, apparently fine with the prospect. "Count us in," they say in unison before turning back to their table.

Vince, however, isn't quite so easily swayed.

"So, what? This is like some pre-planned spin the bottle or something?" he raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little lame?"

Ashley B looks at him, at first appearing worried but then her face morphs into a slow smile as her eyes dart across the room to where Vance Lombardi is sitting with a few of his lacrosse teammates. Vince follows her gaze.

"Vance isn't coming," Ashley B says. "We didn't invite him. But we did invite you and TJ and your crowd of, like, total misfits."

Vince turns back to her and opens his mouth to argue about her calling his friends misfits, but she speaks first.

"Aren't you sick of having Vance one-upping you like that?"

He hates that she's right.

Vance Lombardi, the bane of Vince's middle school existence, had come home from summer camp that year with a girlfriend. For the majority of their eighth grade football season, he talked about it nonstop and many of their teammates hung onto Vance's stories with baited breath.

It wasn't like the notion of coupling up was new or anything. Not long into seventh grade, lunchroom romances became a thing, which Vince found utterly ridiculous. Two kids would sit next to each other for a few days, the boy would buy the girl some treat with his extra lunch money, and they would bat eyes at each other for a day or two before the boy went back to sitting with his friends. Luckily, his group of friends all agreed that the concept was ridiculous – with the sole exception being Mikey.

By the time Vance started bragging about his _experience_ , they knew more about relationships than they had at Third Street and – while it wasn't something Vince was particularly interested in at the moment – he somewhat saw the appeal of it down the road. Girls no longer had cooties and they were actually sort of cute all of a sudden, even when they were giggling or being weird.

But the one thing that Vance talked about more than anything else was kissing. He puffed out his chest, proud to be the first to kiss someone, and he continued to brag about it until about midway through their football banquet at the end of the season. Because that's when Sam, looking confused, turned down the table to where Vince and TJ were sitting and slammed his hand down to get everyone's attention.

"Hey, TJ!" he says, loud enough to catch the attention of the majority of the team. "Did you and Spinelli do it wrong or did you just lie about it back in fourth grade?"

Vince watched TJ turn bright red, but he also saw Vance's chest visibly deflate at the notion of being beat to the punch. But no one was looking at Vance anymore. Every former Third Streeter – and the rest of the team too for that matter – just stared at TJ, the only oracle of knowledge they had to confirm Vance's claims, and TJ did everything in his power not to meet anyone's eyes.

Vince doesn't remember what happened next – a joke most likely – and the topic swayed away from girlfriends and kissing. Then Vince started basketball and Vance started hockey season, so the two didn't have much interaction and wouldn't until high school football preseason. It wasn't the first time he was thankful that he and Vance only shared one sport of the three each of them played.

And Vince forgot all about Vance and his kissing until right now.

He grunts and Ashley B smirks.

"Don't you want to have your first kiss before you go to high school?" she asks. Then she shrugs. "We totally do."

He forgets about his life competition with Vance for a moment, finding her last aside interesting. "You all haven't kissed anyone either?"

She shakes her head. "And we are so not going to high school as weirdos who haven't been kissed yet. So, like, totally up to you, but..." She contorts her face quickly into a wince before she adds her next thought. "I'd hate to see you drop in popularity because Vance _and_ TJ have already kissed someone and you haven't. It would be a shame."

To be honest, his popularity isn't something he holds up on a pedestal, but the thought of Vance being more popular than him for the sole reason of having kissed a girl before him grates on his nerves. In Vince's opinion, Vance does not match his natural athleticism, but for some reason everyone loves him just the same, with his floppy blond hair and his easy-going grin and goofy nature. Vance is, essentially, TJ and Vince squished into one person and Vince would be lying if he didn't think that gave Vance an advantage over the two of them in social standings.

It doesn't really matter now, but what about high school? He does not want to lose homecoming court to Vance and he becomes absolutely livid thinking that Vance could use whatever he has over Vince to become the top wide receiver on the high school football team just because he has an in with the quarterback and gets more passes.

No, Vince needs to go to this party.

"How are the pairings decided?" he asks, because he knows the rest will ask.

Ashley B smirks. "So, you're coming?"

He gives her a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe. If you tell me how you're picking the pairings."

"The four most popular boys will go to us," she tells him. "We'll pick out of a hat. Then everyone else we'll pair together based on who we think fits best socially."

Vince rolls his eyes. That's Ashley-speak for pairing everyone based on how they line up on the social ladder. It's all based on popularity. Of course. He should have known.

"The girls are gonna want to know who the worst person they could get is," Vince says.

She glares at him. "You're not coming if your whole crew doesn't come?"

He shrugs. "It's all or nothing."

Ashley B rolls her eyes and mutters something that sounds vaguely like _of course_. Then thinks for a second.

"If this is your way of asking about Randall, the answer is no. We didn't invite him. Or Menlo. Or any other of the bottom dwellers – except Blumberg and Griswald."

She finishes with a chuckle. Vince glares at her and she crosses her arms defiantly.

"Anything else?" she asks. "I've got invites to give and not a lot of lunch left."

He shakes his head and she turns around, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she moves along to the next table. He watches as she drops an envelope in front of Phil, who is turning out to be quite the baseball catcher, but not Gordy, who sits next to him. Vince isn't upset Gordy isn't invited. He sees Gordy enough at church and youth group things when basketball doesn't get in the way. To be honest, he sees enough of Ashley B at these things too, but at least she doesn't hate TJ for no reason like Gordy.

He turns around and heads back to his table, trying to figure out how best to present the information so the others will want to go. Like Vince told Ashley B, they're a package deal and he really wants to go.

When he arrives back to the table, he's happy to see that TJ and Mikey have just sat down. It'll be better that all six of them are there when he gives his intel on the party structure. TJ will make sure everything is fair and he can have a shot at convincing the others to want to go. Because, like he kept telling Ashley B, they're a package deal and he knows he needs a majority for them all to go. His winning strategy is to go for Gus, Gretchen, and Mikey. Spinelli is going to be a lost cause and he is confident that TJ will go anyway just because Vince wants to go. If he can convince two of the other three, he'll be set.

Vince sits back down just as TJ wrinkles his nose. "Ah, man. What are the Ashleys up to now?"

"It's actually not that bad," Vince says quickly.

Spinelli turns to him and glares. "Not that bad? It's the Ashleys!"

TJ puts a hand on her shoulder and her mouth shuts. The two exchange a look and then TJ hands her a dessert off his tray.

"Last one," he says with a boyish grin. "Thought I'd grab it for you."

She smiles and takes the treat, starting in on it before she even finishes the rest of her lunch.

Vince grins. Smooth move on TJ's part to distract Spinelli with food, otherwise they'd be listening to her rant about the Ashleys all lunch. And Vince needs this time to convince them that they all need to go to this party.

TJ turns away from Spinelli and back to Vince. "I take it you talked to the Ashleys, then?"

Gus nods for him. "Yeah, he just went over," he says. Then he turns to Vince. "You were gone a long time."

Vince shrugs. "I got all the details from B," he says. "Essentially, it's a party so that the popular kids can get their first kisses out of the way before high school."

Spinelli looks up and rolls her eyes. "I've already had my first kiss."

"Well, you're not the only one at this table, Spinelli," he says, a little shocked at the venom in his own voice. But he can't have her sway the others by bailing immediately. The others might too and then he'll be out numbered. "Just hear me out. It actually doesn't seem that bad."

Spinelli opens her mouth to complain some more, but TJ puts his hand back on her shoulder, effectively shutting down her rebuttal, and turns back to Vince.

"You want to go?"

Vince nods.

"Okay, what else do you know about the party?"

He tells them what Ashley B told him, trying to make it sound appealing to Gus, Mikey, and Gretchen at the very least. If he can get the vote to sway in his direction, that's all he'll need for TJ to side with him and Spinelli will be out of luck. By the end of his story, Gus looks intrigued and Gretchen seems to be weighing the pros and cons in her head.

"Teej, you and me will probably get an Ashley," he says. He isn't too thrilled about it himself, but what can he do? "Everyone else should get someone decent, I would guess."

Gus shrugs his shoulders. "I'm in!"

Vince turns to Mikey next, who seems to be having some sort of internal dilemma. "What about you, big guy?"

Mikey runs a hand through his hair. "I dunno," he says softly. "The art of kissing is that of shared passion between two souls who love each other fiercely."

Vince rolls his eyes. "TJ and Spinelli kissed–"

"I thought we weren't gonna bring that up again!" TJ interrupts from across the table.

Vince turns to look at them and they're both red in the face. But before he can say anything, Gretchen adds her two cents.

"Theoretically, Mikey, a kiss ignites a chemical reaction in the brain and, most likely, this is regardless of whether or not one shares romantic feelings for the other," she states, like a walking encyclopedia. "If nothing else, this party could actually be a very nice follow-up for our fourth grade experiment."

There's little TJ and Spinelli like talking about less than the experiment and Vince doesn't think he has ever seen either of them as red as they are currently. TJ's jaw is clenched so tightly that Vince is a little worried about his best friend's teeth, so he decides to be nice and steer the conversation away. It'll be better for his cause in the long run.

"Come on, Mikey," Vince prods. "It's not like you have to marry whoever you kiss. And, hey, maybe you'll make a friend out of it. Are you going to join me, Gretch, and Gus?"

Mikey nods. "Sure, if you all wish to go, I'll go as well. It might be a pleasurable experience."

Vince turns to Spinelli and smirks. "So, that's four to one. You lose. We're going."

She crosses her arms and glares at him. "Okay, fine, but I'm not happy about it."

"Perfect," Vince says, standing up. "Let me just go RSVP." And then, before anyone can change their mind, he heads off to find the Ashleys.

...

Vince drops his bike in the Detweilers' front lawn just as Gretchen arrives, so he waits for her before going to the door. The party is being held at Ashley Q's, which is closer to Mikey and Gus on the other side of the Third Street school zone. TJ said for Vince and Gretchen to meet at his house and the four would just meet Mikey and Gus at Ashley Q's. Vince just hopes Gus and Mikey don't chicken out with the others not there to prod them.

"You ready?" he asks Gretchen as they walk to the front door.

She shrugs, but her face betrays the casual nonchalance of her behavior. Her eyes are a little wide and her hands fidget as Vince knocks on the door.

"I suppose so," she says. "It can't be that bad, right?"

He nudges her arm. "It could be good. You never know until you test your hypothesis."

That at least puts a smile on her face.

Mrs. Detweiler opens the door and ushers them inside, commenting on how cute they look. Vince isn't thrilled that he has to dress up two nights in a row. The semi-formal dance tomorrow night has a strict dress code that he had been prepared for in advance and while the Ashleys didn't require the same sort of attire they made it very clear that they expected everyone to look nice.

He keeps debating on whether or not this party is actually worth it.

After a minute of polite chitchat, Mrs. Detweiler tells the two that TJ and Spinelli are in the basement. Vince leads Gretchen to the stairwell and he takes the steps two at a time. When he gets to the bottom, he expects to find the other two finishing up a round of _Mario Kart_ or some other game while they wait, but that isn't the case at all. Instead, it looks like they're not even halfway through _Ghostbusters_ and neither are dressed up. While he wouldn't put it passed TJ to rile the Ashleys up by attending their fancy party in his pajamas instead of a button down, Spinelli is wearing TJ's old baseball sweats and the dress Vince thinks she is planning on wearing tonight is balled in a pile on the floor.

"What are you wearing?" he demands in lieu of hello. He bends down and picks up the dress. "Get this on and let's go. We gotta get out of here."

Spinelli crosses her arms and gives an exaggerated shake of her head. "I'm not going," she says firmly.

" _What?"_ Vince exclaims. "What do you mean you're not going?"

"I'm not going to the Ashleys' party tonight," she says, slowly, condescendingly really, as if she's talking to a toddler. "They're gonna make me kiss Randall so they can get a good laugh!"

Vince blows out a breath and tries to keep himself in check. Right now what he really wants to do is grab her and her attitude, toss her tiny body over his shoulder and carry her to the Ashleys so they can get there on time.

"Spinelli, I've told you a _million_ times. Randall isn't coming," he says slowly. "Ashley B told me herself that he wasn't invited."

"And you believe Ashley B? She probably lied just so I'd go!" she exclaims. She shakes her head continuously as she continues to talk. "And I'm not playing that game with them. Nope. Nuh uh. I'm going to sit here and continue watching my movie, thank you very much."

"Fine. Stay," he says with a huff. Then he turns to TJ. "Come on, Teej. Are you seriously wearing that?"

TJ fiddles with his hat and Vince narrows his eyes as he watches TJ fidget.

"Look, Vince, I just...kind of agree with Spin on this one," he says, his eyes looking everywhere but Vince's. "I don't want her to have to kiss Randall or someone else."

"Randall. Isn't. Going." Vince feels fire bubble in his gut. "Look, we already kind of know what the pairings are – Teej, you'll get an Ashley and Spin'll probably get like...Sam or Dave or someone like that. It's fine."

"I don't want to kiss them!" Spinelli hisses.

"You're in a freaking closet – talk about wrestling for seven minutes, I don't care, no one will even know," Vince says. He shakes his head. "Come on, we said we were gonna go."

"Well, _I'm not_. You can go. Have fun," Spinelli says, turning around on the couch so her back is to Vince.

He groans and shakes his head. Typical Spinelli acting like the world revolves around her when she doesn't want to do something and being a huge brat about it.

"Come on, Teej. Let's go."

Vince watches as TJ looks at Spinelli first, their friend curled into a ball on the couch with her back to Vince and her arms crossed, and then back up to the other two. His eyes dart to Gretchen and then finally land on Vince.

"I, uh, I think I'm gonna stay with Spin," he says quietly. "She shouldn't have to be alone while we're all together having fun."

"She's doing it to herself!" Vince points out.

He can't believe what he's hearing. TJ is all about justice and fairness, majority rules and all that junk, and here he is openly choosing to stay behind with Spinelli than go to the party with the other four in their group. TJ is his best friend and Vince has gone on so many of TJ's crazy plans in the past that it's only fair that TJ go with him to something he wants to do. Instead, TJ's choosing to indulge Spinelli's selfish behavior and it makes Vince's whole body fill with an uncomfortable heat.

"I know, Vin," TJ says. "But, to be honest, I don't really want to go either. I'd rather stay here."

This is ridiculous. TJ is Mr. Life of the Party. When they were growing up, he could even take the attention off the kid whose birthday party it was without even trying. Sure, he guesses he can see Spinelli not wanting to go – she doesn't even have her own birthday parties let alone enjoy going to parties for anyone other than their group, but TJ? TJ is always down to have a good time.

"Come on, man. The Ashleys aren't my first choice either, but it won't be that bad," he says.

Spinelli's voice grumbles through the couch, where she has her face pressed. "You can't force him to kiss an Ashley."

"Shut it, Spin," Vince grunts.

Gretchen takes a step forward, almost inserting herself between the two fiery friends with her positioning. She puts a hand on his arm and waits to speak until he breaks his stare down with TJ to look at her.

"Vince, come on," she says quietly. "Mikey and Gus will think we're leaving them alone."

"If you guys decide you want to ditch the party, we'll be here so just come back," TJ says, a guilty expression etched in his features.

At least he feels guilty about ditching Vince, not that it makes him feel that much better. But regardless he just nods, tossing Spinelli's dress on the floor where he picked it up, and follows Gretchen back up the stairs and outside to their bikes.

"Are you okay?" she asks as they put their helmets on.

Is he okay? He is mad, sure, and a little hurt, but when he thinks about it, he supposes that this isn't entirely unexpected. Both TJ and Spinelli have kissed people before, even if it was each other and it was in fourth grade and they both said it was terrible, and so getting that 'first kiss' out of the way isn't quite as important to them as it is to Vince. But he still wanted TJ to come.

"Yeah," he mutters. "I'll be okay."

She accepts that and the two ride in silence to Ashley Q's house, finding Gus and Mikey waiting for them on the sidewalk in front of her house. They drop their bikes with the pile forming to the side of Ashley Q's garage and walk to meet the other two boys.

"Where are TJ and Spinelli?" Gus asks as they start toward the front door.

"They decided they didn't want to come," Gretchen answers. Vince is glad she does because it means he doesn't have to say anything. "But TJ did say that if we change our minds at any time to go to his house."

Mikey and Gus both nod. "That's good. I'm glad we have an escape plan," Gus mutters. "I'm a little nervous."

"There is nothing to be nervous about," Vince grumbles as they knock on the door. "Everything is gonna be fine."

A whole gaggle of tiny Brittanys open the door, holding a clipboard and asking for names. Vince rolls his eyes at the Ashleys using their younger sisters as doormen. But the fourth graders actually seem to be eating this up, checking off names and handing them party favors that includes a box of Tic Tacs and Listerine strips. When Gus peeks through the bag, even the tips of his pale ears tinge red.

The basement is crowded when they arrive and music plays in the background. Gus and Mikey decide to go straight to the snack table and Gretchen sticks behind with Vince until he tells her to join them. He sits on a chair in the corner, trying not to looks dejected.

"You look like someone just kicked your puppy."

Vince looks up without moving his head from his hand to find Ashley B standing over him, dressed to the nines in a sparkly yellow dress and glittery heels.

"I don't have a dog."

She rolls her eyes. "Where's the rest of your little gang?"

He points in the vague direction of where the snack table is set up. "Gretchen, Mikey, and Gus are somewhere over there," he says. Then he figures he might as well tell her the rest. "TJ and Spinelli bailed. I don't know how that affects your pairs or whatever."

She doesn't appear particularly shocked or even worried, which Vince expected her to be. He thought she might run away from him and over to the rest of her clique, reworking pairings or whatever they needed to do because while he knows Randall isn't coming, he's sure the Ashleys didn't pair Spinelli with someone that they would want to kiss themselves. And he's sure TJ was paired to one of them. So, he figures they'd be worried but instead she just looks indifferent.

"It doesn't really matter," she says. "We paired them together anyway."

He frowns. "You didn't put TJ in your popular boy bucket for you Ashleys?"

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, something that Vince is getting really annoyed watching girls do. Spinelli rolls her eyes all the time and he could deal with a little less attitude from everyone around him.

"I know you and your friends think we're all, like, the root of all evil, but we are so over unnecessary drama," Ashley B says.

Vince almost laughs. The Ashleys love that kind of stuff and have since Third Street. They teased, bullied, laughed at, and insulted every single person on the playground – and that included their own clique members on the occasion they did something apparently atrocious.

"That's funny," he deadpans. She narrows her eyes. "But what are you talking about – unnecessary drama?"

She narrows her eyes even more and seems to wait for him to continue. When he waits for her answer, she raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes in surprise.

"You're seriously asking me this?" He gives her a little nod. "Look, TJ is popular and he certainly fits our mold of an acceptable boy, but, like, we aren't in the business of homewrecking."

"What does that mean?"

"Don't your parents have cable?" she asks sarcastically. He glares. "Doofus, they like each other."

He snorts. "They do not."

She blinks and then starts to giggle. "Maybe you really are a basketball brain, totally filled with air."

Vince stands up, ready to get away from her. Talking to Ashley B reminds him of why he doesn't like the Ashleys. They're stuck up and think they know everything about everyone. He doesn't even say goodbye and instead looks through the crowd, trying to find one of his friends. He knows Mikey should be easy to spot as he still stands quite a bit taller than the majority of their classmates, but it is Gretchen he looks for and finds first. He sees a flash of her dark auburn hair and he cuts through people, making his own path until he finds her talking to Phil and the twins.

He comes up next to her and, quietly, whispers in her ear. "I wanna get out of here for a minute."

She turns away from the three boys and steps a little closer, so she can talk to him without the others hearing. He feels a sweeping sense of gratitude for her friendship in that moment.

"What happened?"

He shuffles from foot to foot for a moment, not wanting to admit that he isn't so keen on kissing an Ashley anymore. If he leaves the party now he'll be even more of laughingstock than he would be if he stayed. Besides, if he leaves, the Ashleys may make his life miserable for ruining one of their nights as well, since it has been heavily implied that they paired him with one of them.

"I need some fresh air," he says, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"We don't have to stay."

He shakes his head. "No, I wanna stay," he insists, even though it doesn't sound as forceful as he would like it to sound. "I just...need to prepare."

She nods her head and gestures for him to lead the way. He makes a quick excuse to Phil and the diggers and then takes Gretchen's hand so they don't get separated in the crowded basement. He sees a sliding glass door that presumably leads to the backyard, so he shuffles through the crowd in that direction.

Mikey and Gus are standing in a corner near the door. The smaller blond has wide eyes as he takes deep breaths in and out, shaking as his eyes watch a group of giggling girls in the opposite corner.

"Hey, guys, I think I changed my mind," he says as Vince and Gretchen approach, his voice cracking as Mikey rubs his back. "I think I want to leave."

Mikey just keeps rubbing his back in slow circular motions. "That's okay, Gus. We don't have to stay."

"Teej said if anyone wanted to bail to just go to his house," Vince reminds them. "Gretch and I were just going outside for some air if you wanna sneak out that way."

The two boys look relieved at Vince's suggestion and the four make their way to the door. Vince slides it open and they walk out into the night. Gus sighs happily as soon as the door closes behind them.

"Oh, I feel better already!"

"Yes, the fresh air does feel nice. It is quite hot in the basement due to all the body heat," Gretchen says with a smile.

"Are you two going to stay?" Mikey asks.

Vince turns to Gretchen and rubs the back of his neck. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he says.

She shrugs. "If you want to stay, I'll stay too. It's always nice to have someone with you."

As the other two say goodbye and head toward the bike pile, Vince watches Gretchen for a moment. Sometimes he feels like of the group he is the least connected to Gretchen. TJ will always be his best friend, but when he thinks of the group the others have tended to come first in the past. He and Gretchen have the least in common, after all. But tonight Gretchen has been a godsend to him, from leaving TJ and Spinelli behind to being a rock for him when he needed it after talking to Ashley B.

And now, as she leads him to the play set in Ashley Q's backyard, motioning for him to sit on the second swing.

"So, what happened that made you so skittish?" she asks.

He kicks at the sand beneath his feet. "Just...Ashley B."

"What did she do?"

He doesn't really want to get into what she said with Gretchen. That particular conversation hit a little too close to home with TJ choosing to stay behind with Spinelli rather than joining him at the party. He doesn't think it's true that they like each other. TJ would have told him if he had a crush on Spinelli. He and TJ tell each other everything.

Ashley B had sounded confident in her theory, but she's also an Ashley. She is conniving and manipulative. She knows exactly what to say to get under his skin if she wants to do so.

"Is being Ashley B a good enough answer?"

"I suppose so," Gretchen says, not really swinging. She just sort of sways in the chair. "Is she the Ashley you have to kiss?"

"God, I hope not."

Gretchen raises an eyebrow. "Is there an Ashley you'd prefer to kiss?"

He thinks for a second and wrinkles his nose. No. There is no Ashley he would want to kiss. He supposes of the four of them the least awful choice would be Ashley T, but even that is unappealing to him.

He puts his head in his hands. "Why am I even here?" he mumbles.

Gretchen must have supersonic hearing, he decides, because she hears him well enough – or perhaps just knows him well enough – to respond.

"Because you're competitive." She shrugs. "So competitive that you would kiss your own worst enemy just to catch up to Vance."

Well, she hit the nail on the head with that. Maybe Gretchen understands him better than he originally thought. He turns to look at her. He can barely see her face in the darkness.

"Why are you here though?" he asks. "You could go running to Teej's and yet here you sit."

Gretchen stops swaying in the swing.

"I am here because you shouldn't have to be alone." Then she digs the toes of her oxfords into the sand. "I know you were upset that TJ didn't join."

He grinds his teeth. "Yeah, well."

He doesn't know what else to say because she's right. He is upset. All the harebrained schemes TJ brought them on that Vince stuck his nose up at and now TJ ditches him when this is something Vince wants to do. Worse that than, TJ, who is so full of justice and equality and fairness, ditched Vince to cater to Spinelli's bratty behavior, rewarding her like a spoiled princess.

Yeah, he's a lot more upset than he thought he was earlier.

"I just don't get it," he grumbles. "Why is she so special? I'm his best friend."

Not according to TJ though. TJ would never put an actual name to a title like that, too afraid to hurt anyone's feelings. Fourth grade solidified TJ never calling anyone his _best_ friend, but it's common knowledge that it's Vince. Everyone says it, even if TJ won't himself.

Gretchen either doesn't know how to respond or understands his need to rant because she just sits silently next to him, waiting for whatever he says next.

"He's already been kissed anyway. It wouldn't have been a big deal." But the ranting doesn't make him feel any better. So, rather than continue, he sighs. "Sorry I'm being such a downer, Gretch."

"No need to apologize," Gretchen says. "This is what friends are for."

He has sincerely underestimated Gretchen Grundler.

"Can we talk about something else?" he asks, sitting up on the swing and shaking his head.

"What do you suggest?"

He smirks. "Wanna see who can swing the highest?"

Gretchen shakes her head, but she agrees nonetheless. It almost feels a little like he is back at Third Street, swinging with Gretchen. First they go as high as they can. Next they see who can jump the farther from the seat. Vince wins both times. They race across the monkey bars, though Vince can nearly touch the ground now on the children's play set. They try the slide, but that doesn't work nearly as well as a teenager as it does as a little kid, and so they go back to the swings, reminiscing about how many times Swinger Girl attempted to swing over the top at Third Street and never succeeded.

They're having so much fun, they lose track of time.

Vince leaps from the swing, digging his heels into the grass like a long-jumper and turning around with his arms up in victory once he sticks the landing. Gretchen shakes her head and keeps swinging.

"Come on, Gretch! Beat that."

"There is no possible way I can beat that."

"If you jump now you can!" he encourages. "Come on! I'll make sure you won't get hurt."

She keeps swinging and for a moment he thinks she might just stop, but then he sees her ready her arms to jump. She takes a leap and he steps forward as she starts flying through the air, ready to catch her if she stumbles. Which she does. Gretchen was never the most graceful at Third Street and she still isn't now with her long lanky limbs and small coordination issues. He catches her and they both laugh.

"See, told you I couldn't beat you," she says.

"You know what? Trying is a win in my book."

She does roll her eyes at him this time. He sees it in the small amount of light coming out through the sliding glass doors of the Quinlans' basement.

"No, it is not, Vince LaSalle."

Before he can keep the joke going, they both hear a small gasp and turn toward the house. Ashley T stands toward the edge of the patio, only a few feet away from where Vince and Gretchen stand, fiddling with her fingers.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "Someone said you were out here and I've been looking all over for you, but...I'll just go inside."

He frowns as she turns around and starts to walk away, wondering why she is so nervous and panicky. Ashleys are never skittish.

Gretchen nudges him and he turns. "What?"

She nods to the retreating girl. "I believe she is your Ashley."

Oh. Right. She seems hell bent on running in the complete other direction as him and, if he's honest, he isn't that upset. So, instead of run after her so they can get shoved in a random closet in Ashley Q's basement, he stays in place.

Gretchen, however, pulls away and crosses her arms. Her mouth forms a thin line as she waits for...something.

"What?" he asks.

She rolls her eyes. "This is what you came for, isn't it?"

He shrugs. He supposes he did originally drag everyone here because of the kissing game, but it doesn't seem to him that anyone else is really into it anymore. TJ and Spinelli ditched completely. Mikey and Gus left early. Ashley T didn't even fight for a chance to kiss him. Maybe Mikey was right in the first place. Maybe it's better to let fate decide.

"Come on, Gretch. Look at her," he says, gesturing to Ashley T, who is dragging her feet slowly as she approaches the doorway back inside. "If she wanted to kiss me, she would have dragged me into the closet."

"No, Vince, you look at her," Gretchen replies. "I'm not usually one to support the Ashleys, but Ashley T is walking that slowly because she's going to try to pretend that you kissed her out here so she isn't the only one of her friends tonight without something to say."

Vince turns back and wonders if that's actually the case.

"If you don't want to kiss her, that's fine. You don't have to but you came here for a specific reason and if you are going to spend the next however long complaining about not taking this opportunity when you should have, then you should do it now," Gretchen states. Then she shrugs. "She's the least of the worst when it comes to them, after all."

Vince sighs. She's right, like always. She knows his patterns well. He'll end up regretting it if he doesn't kiss her and he has to tell all his friends he chickened out, especially after the big stink he pulled at TJ's. He doesn't want to have Spinelli throwing that in his face tomorrow.

"Why do you have to make sense all the time?" he grumbles, but before she can answer, he starts jogging away. "Ashley T!"

She already has the sliding glass doors open when she turns around. What happens next is a split second decision. Vince isn't exactly sure how to do this, but he has seen enough romantic comedies given that it's Mikey's favorite genre to have an idea. He walks right up to her, takes her face in his hands, and presses his lips to hers.

It's...not bad. He doesn't mind it that much. Actually, it's somewhat enjoyable. They break apart and Ashley T's face is tinged red. He smiles a little. She's sort of cute when she isn't being an Ashley.

On the other side of the sliding doors, Sam shouts, "Man, you've done this before!"

"You're holding out on us!" Dave says.

"Show off!" Phil adds. "You're supposed to use the closet so the rest of us don't get judged against you!"

Then the twins and Phil start laughing. The Ashleys seem to appear out of nowhere, taking Ashley T back into the house, giggling madly as they take her away. Vince now comes back to reality, realizing that he just had his first kiss in front of the majority of the popular kids. He turns around and walks back toward Gretchen, only to find her also giggling.

"Don't even," he says as they head toward the bike pile.

"Don't even what?" she asks. "I was not going to say a word."

They grab their bikes and start walking toward the sidewalk. Before they start biking back toward their houses, he frowns and holds up her. She tilts her head to the side in confusion.

"You didn't kiss anyone."

She shrugs. "With Mikey and Gus leaving, there was an disproportionate amount of boys and girls, with more girls than boys. Someone wasn't going to get kissed tonight," she says. Then she smiles. "Besides, because of that, I had a front row seat to see you in action. Are you sure you didn't study some romantic comedies before we came over."

" _Gretchen_."

She laughs and under the streetlights he can see her smile take over her entire face with lines and dimples. As much as he wants to be angry with her for teasing him, he just can't. Instead, he finds himself chuckling a little, albeit more sheepishly and less wholeheartedly than Gretchen.

Once the laughter dies down, they ride home. Vince rides with her to her house to make sure she gets home okay in the dark. She stops and turns to him as she dismounts her bike and unbuckles her helmet.

"I had fun tonight," she says.

"Yeah, I heard you laughing," he jokes.

She shakes her head. "No, I meant on the swing set. It's been forever since I've actually played on one."

"Yeah, I don't think I have either. Not since Third Street, at least," he says. He smiles. "We should do that sometime. Get the gang to just play like we did when we were little kids."

She nods her head and then starts to make moves to go inside. Vince watches her stash her bike against the side of the garage and then climb the stairs to her house. She waves as she opens the door and then he starts riding off a few streets to his own house.

As he bikes, he smiles to himself. In the end, it wasn't a terrible night. Despite the start of the night, the end made up for it in spades.

...

 _Notes_

 _I decided to do a time jump because, as Vince alludes to, not much changed for them in 7_ _th_ _grade and the more I wrote about it, the less it seemed necessary. If anyone wants to see any 7_ _th_ _grade, I could post it as a separate outtake._

 _Instead, I started with this moment because most of the action will begin in high school. There will be one more 8_ _th_ _grade chapter, which will include the 8_ _th_ _grade semi-formal end of the year dance, and then we'll jump straight into high school._

 _I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!_


	4. 8th Grade, Pt 2

_Because this chapter takes place the day after the events of the previous chapter, I didn't want too long of a break between posting 8_ _th_ _Grade Part 1 and Part 2. I hope you all enjoy the second half._

 _..._

8th Grade, Spiro T. Agnew Middle School

Age: 13-14

 _June 2006_

 _..._

Gretchen glances down at the watch on her wrist and sighs. They were supposed to meet the boys at TJ's house ten minutes ago so their mothers could take pictures of them before the semi-formal end-of-school dance at the middle school. But, Spinelli and her mother have been arguing for the last twenty minutes about shoes and now her friend has locked herself in the bathroom, refusing to come out until her mother concedes to letting her wear her boots.

"Ashley, you get out of there right now!"

"No! I'm not wearing those stupid girly _things_ – no, no, no!"

Gretchen briefly wonders if she should leave and tell the boys the situation so they don't just wait over at the Detweilers' for them, but perhaps Mr. Spinelli has already phoned over there to let them know. He hasn't come up the stairs since he nearly got hit in the head with a flying kitten heel.

Something clangs against Spinelli's bedroom window and Gretchen stands from the bed, walking over and lifting the pane to stick her head out. TJ and Vince stand on the ground below, TJ with a handful of pebbles and Vince with his arms crossed.

"What's taking you girls so long?" Vince complains. "We gotta go."

She shrugs. "World War III has started, so it may be a while yet."

TJ groans. "What happened now?"

"They're arguing over her shoes."

Vince rolls his eyes. "Figures. It's always the boots," he grumbles, just loud enough for Gretchen to be able to hear. "Can't she just suck it up and put on the stupid shoes so we can go already?"

They all already know the answer. Even though Spinelli has started exploring a slightly more feminine wardrobe and they aren't even the same boots as they were in fourth grade – possibly even the second or third incarnation of them due to her increasing shoe sizes – Spinelli is insistent on wearing her black boots with any outfit she chooses. Aside from gym class and sports practices, Gretchen can't think of a time when her friend has worn anything else, even in the dead of summer when it's almost too hot for even sandals.

"Is she ready otherwise?" TJ asks, tapping his chin.

Gretchen nods.

Right up until the shoe issue, things had been going relatively okay. Spinelli's dress of choice was a black skater dress she actually seemed to like and she had even put on a pair of earrings and a bracelet from her mother's collection. She hadn't even balked when Mrs. Spinelli put a little powder on both their faces and brushed a small amount of eye shadow on their eyelids. She even agreed to carry the small tube of lip gloss her mother had given them for the night. Or, actually, she agreed to potentially reapply it during the dance _if_ she remembered to grab it from Gretchen's small bag since Spinelli didn't want to bring a bag of her own.

Then her mother took it one step too far and told her to wear a pair of cute black kitten heels she had bought instead of her trusty boots and that's when the meltdown started.

TJ smirks. "Okay, I've got a plan. Can you get her boots and come back to the window? We'll be right back!"

Then he grabs Vince and the two rush back down the street.

She isn't sure what exactly TJ has in mind, but she goes along with it. TJ's plans tend to work well and at this point they're already going to be pressed for time to get to the dance. She goes into Spinelli's closet and digs around, looking to see if her mother had hidden the boots there. When she can't find them, she walks out of the room and starts poking her head in side closets. Mrs. Spinelli is so focused on her daughter that she doesn't even notice Gretchen walk by.

She takes to the stairs to go check by the door, thinking that maybe Mrs. Spinelli bluffed about having hid the boots. They aren't there, but when she turns back around, she is met by Mr. Spinelli.

"Looking for these?" he asks with a grin, holding out Spinelli's infamous black boots out to her.

"Thank you," she says, accepting them. "TJ has some sort of plan."

"I figured," Mr. Spinelli says as they walk back toward the stairs. "Now we just need to get her out of the bathroom."

That is going to be easier said than done.

Mr. Spinelli climbs the stairs after her but stops to talk to his wife as Gretchen continues down the hall to Spinelli's bedroom. TJ and Vince are already back when she gets to the window, holding up a floppy pink backpack she knows is Mikey's old one from Third Street.

"Throw 'em down!" TJ shouts. "We're going to smuggle them in using Mikey's overnight bag."

"And where are Mikey's overnight things?" Gretchen asks.

"In a pile on Teej's floor," Vince says. "Now, come on. Toss one at a time."

She does just that. The first time she's nervous to throw the shoe down to them, but Vince catches it easily. Satisfied that she isn't going to hurt them, she sends the other one down as well. The two boys stuff the boots in the bag and zip it up, tossing the bag over TJ's shoulders. He adjusts the straps and then grins up at her, like a little kid on the first day of school.

"Now, go get Spin and let's get out of here," TJ says.

She sighs and turns around, trying to prepare herself to cut into the mother-daughter face-off, but when she pokes her head out of the room, Mrs. Spinelli is gone. Mr. Spinelli must have somehow managed to get her down the stairs, leaving Gretchen to tackle Spinelli herself. She walks to the bathroom door and knocks.

"Spinelli, it's me."

"Is she gone?" comes the quite voice from the other side of the door.

"Yes."

The lock clicks and Spinelli sticks her head out, looking in both directions before visibly relaxing.

"Help me."

"I did," she says, taking Spinelli's hand and yanking her out of the bathroom and toward the staircase. "Behave and you'll get your boots."

"Gretch, you're a lifesaver."

Gretchen rolls her eyes. "It was TJ's idea," she says as they take the stairs quickly. "You can ask questions later, but now we really have to go."

She at least looks a little sheepish for keeping everyone waiting.

The group suffers through a few rounds of pictures at TJ's house, all six mothers agreeing with how grown up they have become. A few of the mothers even appear to be holding back tears. After they escape, they pile into Mrs. Griswald's minivan to be dropped off at the dance. It's being held in the cafeteria and two of the eighth-grade teachers are manning the front entrance.

TJ adjusts Mikey's pink backpack on his shoulder as Mrs. Griswald drives away and turns to the group.

"Okay, let me handle this."

He has been sweet-talking his teachers since kindergarten and the chaperones at the door are a piece of cake. He gives his best puppy dog eyes and tells a ridiculous story about Mikey's bag of things and the teachers let him through even though they're technically not supposed to bring bags inside.

Right in front of the cafeteria doors, the group stops so TJ can take off the backpack. He reaches in and withdraws Spinelli's boots, barely having a chance to hold them out to her before she reaches for them herself, hugging them tightly.

"Oh, my God," she moans, a smile splitting her face in two and she squeezes her eyes shut like an excited toddler. "I could kiss you right now."

"Please don't," Vince says immediately. "No one wants to see that again."

While Gus laughs at Vince's joke, Spinelli smacks Vince in the arm.

TJ looks down at his feet, well aware that his face started to glow red with Spinelli's words and not wanting the others to see.

He thought his dumb crush on Spinelli would pass, but if anything, it's just gotten worse. Until recently it sort of sat dormant in the pit of his gut, something that he could forget about for the most part until something triggered it to bubble up. But ever since the Ashleys invited them to that stupid party, he hasn't really been able to think about much else besides what it would be like to kiss her. In fourth grade he was so preoccupied with cooties and not wanting to kiss anyone that he figures he could probably be kissing his soulmate and it wouldn't have mattered. He still would have hated it. But now...now kissing doesn't seem so bad.

It didn't seem so outrageous in his head that the Ashleys might pair them together – they did have the experiment to redo – but then Vince was convinced that they were both going to get Ashleys and the thought of watching Spinelli walk into the closet with someone else overwhelmed him with jealousy. And it whomped because he knew Spinelli didn't feel the same way and it felt wrong to be jealous about it when she was actually scared that she'd get paired with Randall, brought in by the Ashleys solely for the purpose of making her miserable. He had felt horrible.

But now he's just confused.

After Vince and Gretchen left, she thanked him for staying with her and they continued their movie. But then she rested her head on his shoulder and when he put his arm around her, just like he always does, she cuddled more into him. They stayed like that through the rest of _Ghostbusters_ and when he changed out the movie when the credits began to roll, she resumed her spot curled up into his side, even wrapping her arm across his chest.

That in and of itself wouldn't have been too weird. He's a touchy person, always has been, and he thinks that makes Spinelli more comfortable with physical contact with him rather than everyone else. But the weird part was when Gus and Mikey came down the stairs, Gus charging down like a mad man with multiple stories waiting to be told, she leapt right off him as if he had suddenly caught on fire, her cheeks stained red as she kept biting her lip. _That_ made him pause.

Because...maybe she does like him back.

"Teej!"

He shakes out of his thoughts to find Vince staring at him, eyebrow raised. The other four are heading out to the dance floor.

"You okay, man?" Vince asks as TJ falls into step beside him.

TJ nods. "Yeah. Fine. Definitely."

Vince doesn't take it as easily as TJ would have hoped.

"Really? Because you've been more of a space cadet than Mikey lately," he says suspiciously. "You sure nothing's up?"

Normally, Vince is the person that TJ would go to with problems like this one. He is the one who helped him in fourth grade when he had all the girls chasing him around the playground after his Valentine's Day card fiasco. Vince was the person he went to when he had his forty-eight hour crush on Ashley A and thought the world was ending. It isn't even that he thinks Vince would tell Spinelli or any of the others – if Vince didn't say a word about the Ashley A thing, he wouldn't squeal now – but there is something that keeps TJ from wanting to tell him.

"Yeah, Vin," he says, putting a hand on Vince's shoulder as they approach the other four. "Don't worry about me. I'm just...ready for summer."

Vince grins. "You can say that again," he says. "Football camp and baseball camp! Man, our summer is gonna rock!"

TJ keeps his grin tightlipped. He hasn't told Vince that he isn't going to football camp yet. He will be going to baseball camp with him, but at the last minute he dropped out of football camp in favor of going to camp with Spinelli instead. Her mom was only letting her go to wrestling camp this year if she went to a camp her mother thought sounded more appropriate and, since it was co-ed, Spinelli sort of strong-armed him into going with her.

He isn't sure when the best time to tell Vince about the updated camp schedule is, but he knows it sure isn't now.

"Yeah, it's gonna be something," he says, letting Vince lead him out to where the rest of their friends have found a spot.

They dance as a big group for a few songs, but then Gus gets claustrophobic and Gretchen goes with him for company. It seems like every group of kids tries to steal Vince and each time he has a harder time returning to the rest. They lose Mikey not long after Vince doesn't return from getting pulled away from the basketball boys. And then it's down to two.

They haven't been alone since last night and TJ watches for any body language that might betray her inner thoughts. But Spinelli continues to dance as if the others haven't left. Any awkwardness he thought might arise doesn't and he tries to calm his thoughts. He is reading too much into the situation. That's it.

"Spinelli!"

The pair turns to see a few girls from the soccer team come over to join their duo. Meghan Rigalli takes up the spot next to Spinelli and the other girls follow suit until they've formed a decent-sized circle of girls and him. He doesn't mind. He likes the girls on the soccer team fine, but mostly he likes that Spinelli has been able to make some additional friends outside of their group just like everyone else. He had been worried she would have trouble but he should have known that once she and Meghan Rigalli got over their initial competition they would bond over their previous history of sharing names with mean girl cliques and their mutual love of wrestling.

The soccer teammate immediately to his right bumps into him, swaying almost so their bodies touch. He shuffles a little further from her to give her some space. Then she does it again. This time, he moves so far over that he bumps into Spinelli, who stops dancing to look up at him and then over at her teammate. She glares at the other girl and then she takes a side step so she's standing right in front of him, as if she's guarding him from the rest of her friends, and takes both his hands in her own. He can feel her back swaying to the music against his chest and occasionally their hips bump.

Whoa. What brought that on?

...

"Hi Gretchen!"

She turns away from Gus and smiles at the two boys who have come up to talk to her. Steve and Rodney shared a few classes with her during their time in middle school and, for the most part, she actually enjoyed their company. Unlike many of their classmates, the two former Pale Kids actually put effort into their schoolwork so when they asked for her assistance she never hesitated to give it.

She smiles and greets them each by name.

"How is your night going?" Rodney asks, fiddling with his bowtie. He tightens and untightens it as he speaks. "It's quite boisterous here."

She nods, not surprised the boys feel out of their element. She doesn't remember either at any of the other more casual dances the school hosted once a month. The dark room, loud music, and bumping bodies are things she imagines the boys don't often experience. She also isn't surprised they sought out her company. She doesn't see any of the boys' other friends and she is a recognizable face in the unfamiliarity.

"I believe that's the point," she says, then she gestures to Gus beside her. "You remember Gus?"

The boys both nod and, after a moment of hesitation, take the hand that Gus extends for a shake.

They talk for a few more moments, mostly about the kinetic energy of the room of dancers, when Gretchen feels someone take her hand. She nearly jumps out of her skin, not suspecting the contact, and narrows her eyes when she notices Vince beside her.

"I'm gonna steal Gretch for a minute," he says to the boys and then he gently guides her away.

She expects him to bring her back to the dance floor, where he and the other three have noticed her missing now that the dance is close to over, but he doesn't do it. Instead, he leads her to the refreshment table on the other side of the floor, far enough away that she can no longer see the three boys they left behind.

Vince drops her hand and goes to get a drink. She crosses her arms.

"What did you need?" she asks.

He finishes filling his cup and looks at her in confusion for a minute. "What do I need?"

She nods. "You seemed like you were in a hurry when we left the boys."

He snorts and puts the cup to his lips, taking a sip before responding. "Did you seriously not notice the heart eyes Rodney was sending you? Steve, too, for that matter." He smirks and nudges her arm. "I had to get you out of there before they play any sort of slow song or else you would have been dancing with a Pale Kid."

"I find it highly improbable that all boys have an inability to speak to a girl without being attracted to them," she says.

"Yeah, you're right." He is still smirking, a dimple showing in one of his cheeks. "But those boys are crushing on you and I saved you from having to humiliate them."

"Why would I humiliate them?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Would you have danced with Rodney if he asked?"

Probably not. Every slow dance this year has been to the Led Zeppelin's _Stairway to Heaven_ , a song eight minutes in duration, so given the pattern she expects that to be the song the DJ chooses tonight as well. She wouldn't want to dance to a song that long with anyone unless she really liked that person and, if she was honest, she would probably say no to even her best guy friends for a song that long. But, she doesn't like the way Vince wiggles his eyebrows at her as he continues to tease her.

"Perhaps," she says, but even with the pounding bass of the current song, she can hear her voice waver.

And so can Vince.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," he says. Then he knocks her shoulder with his fist playfully. "Why would you dance with those two when you have me at your beck and call?"

She rolls her eyes. "Be careful, Vincent, your ego is showing."

He scowls at the use of his full name, but then shakes it off. "But seriously, Gretch. You ever need an excuse not to dance with someone, use me. Got it?"

She highly doubts she would ever use that, but it is a nice excuse to hold in her back pocket. Vince is arguably the most popular boy in their grade and to have him as one of her best friends has already afforded her some social leniencies.

"Yo, Vince! Come on, man!"

A group of rowdy boys grab Vince and off he goes in what looks like a mini moshpit. She sighs as she looks around. With Vince now gone, she goes to find someone else to talk to on the outskirts of the dance floor.

Greta Grobler stands alone, looking uncomfortable with her arms crossed. Gretchen has shared many of her classes with Greta over the last two years and now considers her a friend though it has been slightly rocky in the last couple of months.

She and Greta both sat for the entrance exam for the Arkansas School of Science and Technology, a boarding charter school in Little Rock far from their hometown in the northwest corner of the state. It had been nice to have Greta taking the exam on the same day since it was a multi-hour test and it gave her someone to chat with during breaks. Then when the acceptances came in the mail, Greta assumed they would both go.

In hindsight, Gretchen probably should have been more honest with her new friend about her apprehensions. It wasn't that she didn't want to go to the school or that she meant to hurt Greta's feelings. Ultimately, it came down to her friends and her long-held opinion that there is more to an education than what is to be learned in books.

Besides, it wasn't like their school system was lacking in any way that was substantial evidence for her to leave it. Superintendent Skinner often touts it as the best school district in the state and their scores on statewide exams are always at the top. She knows that students from their school district have been accepted to many top institutions. Chad LaSalle got into Stanford, where he will be going in the fall. A few of his friends had accepted full scholarships to other high-ranking programs. They did just fine at the local high school.

But Greta doesn't have the friendships that she does. Time has not been as kind to her and her group as it has been for Gretchen and hers. Greta came into school in seventh grade still sitting at a lunch table with Vance Lombardi, Meghan Rigalli, CJ Rottweiler, Russ Rimpol, and Mickey Yang, but slowly that disintegrated. Russ moved away and the others just moved on, as people tend to do. The fact that so many Third Street friendships have remained intact is something rare.

She can't help but think that when she declined her acceptance, Greta took it personally. Spinelli told her to forget about it, that a nerd like Greta wasn't worth Gretchen's guilt, but this may very well be one of Gretchen's last chances to say her peace.

"Hi, Greta."

The girl looks up briefly and then back out toward the dance floor. "Hello, Gretchen."

"You must be getting excited," Gretchen tries. "Pre-classes start in July, right?"

Greta nods her head but doesn't respond.

Gretchen feels her shoulders slump. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by declining my acceptance. I know you were excited for us to go together."

Greta had been talking about potentially being roommates and studying together. It had come as quite a shock to her when Gretchen told her she would not be going to Little Rock in the fall.

"You did what's best for you," Greta says, staring at the dance floor. "I hope that I can find friends who understand me while I'm there. Friends worth staying behind for, like you have."

The music has since changed and Gretchen glances back toward the dance floor. She feels a rush of relief for Vince as she watches duos of boys and girls beginning to slow dance. There is a fair amount of commotion and she follows Greta's eyes to where Meghan Rigalli has Vance Lombardi by the tie, dragging him out to the dance floor while a few of the lacrosse boys wolf whistle.

From what Gretchen has seen, those two are the only ones from their original elementary school group to survive their group crumbling. They're the two sportier ones, so similar to Vince and Spinelli it's uncanny. But when she turns back to Greta, hoping to convince her that she is sure the new school will be a great opportunity for her, she recognizes the look in the other girl's eyes. She misses her friends. It's plain as day.

"I am going to leave before the rush," Greta mumbles. "I'll see you, Gretchen."

She takes off before Gretchen can even say goodbye.

Gretchen sighs and turns around. She better find her friends. They often leave the dances during the final song as well, none of them particularly interested in slow dancing and much more interested in getting a booth at Kelso's before they're all full. But she stops, her eyes focusing in on a couple on a dance floor near Meghan Rigalli and Vance Lombardi.

She watches as Spinelli puts her hands on TJ's shoulders and the two begin to dance with each other.

She doesn't know quite how to feel as she stands, stone still, looking out at the dance floor. She should have seen it coming, really, and maybe she did and just ignored it, too focused on her academics. But, for some reason, she can't help but look at the two and feel her stomach drop.

The amount of friend groups that have stayed intact since Third Street is rare after all and she knows if those two pair off it won't be good for the rest of them. While she knows some friendships between the six of them are stronger than others, this is something entirely different. She wonders if this sort of fracturing is something their group as a whole would be able to survive.

...

Gus wanders through crowds of friends trying to find his own. It shouldn't be as difficult as it has been. The room where the dance is being held isn't enormous and he has circled the area what feels like a hundred times now. He feels like he's lost in a superstore, looking for his mother in all the aisles. Maybe if he just stands in one spot and doesn't move his friends will eventually be able to find him.

But not moving makes him anxious as he just looks out at the other groups having a grand ol' time together so he starts searching again.

Finally, he sees Mikey across the room getting a drink of water and he barrels through the Ashleys to get to him.

"Hello, my friend," Mikey says. He drinks the rest of his water in one gulp before throwing the cup in the trash so he doesn't have to hold onto it. "You look stressed."

Gus rubs the back of his neck. "I couldn't find anyone. Once the Pale Kids left I was all by myself."

"I didn't realize you were friends with the Pale Kids," Mikey says.

Gus shakes his head. "Nah, they really came over to talk to Gretchen. But then Vince took her and left me with them and then they left."

Mikey chuckles and Gus frowns at the reaction.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing," Mikey says, almost like it isn't a big deal at all. Gus raises an eyebrow and Mikey finally explains. "It's getting close to the end of the dance. Rodney and Steve were probably staking their positions for the slow dance."

Gus still doesn't understand what Mikey is talking about. "What?"

Luckily, Mikey is patient with him.

"I'm sure one of them was going to ask our dear Gretchen to dance during the slow dance," Mikey says. "I'm sure it didn't even occur to Gretchen, but Vince probably helped her duck out so she wouldn't have to hurt their feelings."

He thinks about what Mikey said for a minute. He knows that each of their school dances in the past has ended with a slow dance, but none of them have ever danced to it. Typically they all just dance in a big group and when the slow dance song starts they leave, beating everyone out of the dance and into the night. It didn't even occur to him that any of his friends would be slow dancing at this dance.

"Gretchen?"

He says it more to himself than to Mikey and the other boy doesn't even seem to hear him anyway. Gus looks out at the dance floor and realizes for the first time how diverse the groups are tonight. Typically at dances in the past, their group was one of the few mixed gendered groups. Just like at the lunch tables and in classes, the seventh and eighth graders at dances tended to pair off boys and girls.

But tonight he looks out and there are boys and girls dancing next to each other in ways Gus has never really taken much notice of before. He supposes he knows that boys and girls like each other, he has had some crushes himself in the past, but he never really thought about the rest of his friends.

So, it does make sense that someone would probably want to dance with Gretchen. She is a girl after all, even if he has never taken much notice. Same with Spinelli. There's probably a boy or two for each of his friends, like Mikey said, trying to get in good position to be around them when the slow song starts.

He feels his gut churn. He is friends with girls. It wasn't like he didn't know they were girls but it just never made a difference to him when they were younger. But now he understands why Vince cut into their conversation with the Pale Kids. Gretchen shouldn't have to deal with boys she doesn't like asking her to dance. Same with Spinelli. A lot of boys at their school have become cocky overnight. In the gym locker room he has tried to tune out their talk about the girls and their appearances.

Oh, man. He's friends with girls and boys _like_ girls. Boys who like girls are going to want to dance with his friends because they are both nice and pretty and popular in their own ways. He wonders if they've realized that. From what Mikey said, it seems like Gretchen hasn't and if Gretchen hasn't because she's so smart, Spinelli is probably completely clueless.

He feels the need to watch out for them for the rest of the night. He'll try to mimic Vince and when he sees someone unworthy he'll cut in. He can do that. It's the least he can do for all the times they've each saved his butt in various occasions.

"Shall we see if we can find the others?" Mikey asks.

Gus shakes out of his thoughts and nods his head. It'll be easier to do his job if Spinelli and Gretchen are nearby.

They head toward the dance floor where they can see Vince's head bobbing in a group of baseball players. Gus doesn't want to go near that, afraid for his health and wellbeing, and he keeps looking for TJ, Spinelli, and Gretchen. Those three must be around somewhere. He can't find Gretchen, but he sees Spinelli and TJ with a group of girls that play on the soccer team. He doesn't really want to go over there either. Meghan Rigalli is like another Spinelli, but without the years of friendship taming his intimidation, her somewhat salty exterior gives Gus the shivers.

He keeps an eye out for Gretchen. Like Gus, Gretchen isn't thrilled by the masses of sticky bodies bumping together. She tolerates it better than he does, but she takes breaks from the dance floor and he often joins her. He looks for her along the sides. He hopes she's out there. He is already feeling claustrophobic.

The fast beat of the typical dance music comes to a stop with the last few chords of the song. Everyone on the dance floor looks up toward the lights, waiting to see if they'll turn back on and signal for everyone to leave or if the pause just means an announcement. It ends up being the latter, when the DJ of the night tells the group of celebrating eighth graders that there's one final song for the evening.

"Uh oh."

Gus looks up and Mikey gestures to their left. Gus doesn't see anything of any importance. Randall and Menlo are standing together off to the side and then they break apart. Menlo seems to be walking toward the Ashleys and Randall toward the group with TJ and Spinelli.

"It looks like Randall has plucked up some courage tonight," he says, leaning down close to Gus so the other boy can hear.

"What courage?" Gus asks, but as he watches he can see what Mikey means.

The boy is inching his way toward the group of girls. Gus wonders which girl Randall is going to ask but regardless of who it is the request isn't going to go well.

Mikey even bites his lip. "I do hope I'm wrong, but my guess is he is planning on asking Spinelli to dance and he may end up with a black eye."

Gus's eyes widen. Of all the boys he thought might ask Spinelli to dance, Randall wasn't one of them. He steels his nerves and leaves Mikey's side, trying to intercept the situation. He told himself he was going to protect the girls from weirdos tonight and Randall is number one on that list, even if Spinelli can probably handle the situation better than Gus can.

But as he gets closer, dodging newly formed slow dancing couples, he sees TJ take Spinelli's hand and Randall's movements falter. The redhead stands still and watches, just as Gus does, as Spinelli gives a little nod and puts her hands on TJ's shoulders and the two of them beginning to dance themselves.

Gus blows out a breath. Good. He and TJ are on the same page. He must have seen Randall. Now Gus doesn't have to get in the way. He turns around, ready to go back to Mikey but his friend has disappeared again. He groans. Now he has to find his friends all over again.

...

The music changes. Rather than the upbeat dance music played all night, this isn't a fast song. The first few seconds are only the plucking of a guitar before more instruments join into the slow melody. Spinelli has heard this song played before at other dances but she has never danced to it. Her group typically ditched when it started playing, ducking out to fool around outside while their classmates awkwardly paired up or equally gawkily sat in the bleachers to watch.

The guitar plucking is the signal for most of the students to leave the dance floor, but she doesn't immediately turn around. TJ stands behind her, where he has been all night because she wouldn't let him go. After her teammate's embarrassingly horrible attempt to get TJ to notice her earlier, Spinelli hasn't let him near her friends while also not letting him stray far from her side. She did a perfectly good job of positioning her body between the rest of the group and TJ.

She feels him squeeze her hands, which she also didn't let go of since she grabbed them early in the night, and she finally turns her head to look up at him.

He smiles and she notices that it's different than his typical smiles. This one lacks a little bit of the cocky grandeur that encompasses TJ Detweiler. Instead, the corners lift up only a hair and his eyes shine with nervousness.

"Do you want to keep dancing?" he asks.

She nods her head and lets go of his hands to turn around.

Her gut bubbles and she feels like she can't breathe. Slow dancing with TJ should not be this big of a deal. It isn't like he _likes_ her or anything. Just because she has harbored a crush on him since before she knew what a crush even was doesn't mean that this changes things. They're friends. Friends dance.

But out of the corner of her eye, she can see Meghan Rigalli pulling Vance Lombardi out to the dance floor by the tie and start dancing together. They're dancing, but also laughing and seem to be teasing each other. They're friends and that's how friends are supposed to look like when they're dancing.

She and TJ are still just standing awkwardly next to each other.

She looks down at her boots. What if he figured it out? She did hold him hostage for the majority of the dance and she wasn't exactly subtle in her actions the previous night. He is probably just being nice, being TJ, offering to dance with her because he realized she's a sap and he has already wasted his entire night attached to her hip anyway.

TJ's hand finds hers and she looks up as he squeezes it. He shrugs.

"We don't have to, you know," he says.

She knows what she _should_ do. She should let him go. She should roll her eyes and make a comment about how she wouldn't be caught dead slow dancing at a middle school dance. She should remind him that she has a reputation to maintain as the toughest girl in school.

That's what she should do. But instead of running away she takes a step forward and puts her hands on his shoulders.

The gym is hot and sticky from all the dancing. Because of this she long discarded her leather jacket with Mikey's backpack and her girly shoes over in a corner. Now she wishes she hadn't because when TJ places his hands on her hips she can feel their warmth through the thin material of her dress. It makes her shiver and that seems to cause the warmth to cascade through her entire body.

There has to be something wrong with her because she's overheating. This song is notoriously long and what if she passes out? There will be no saving her reputation then.

She feels TJ lightly squeeze her hip and she looks up from her boots to meet his eyes. He gestures his head and she follows his gaze to where Dave is dancing with a girl she doesn't really recognize. But he keeps looking away, anywhere but at the girl he is dancing with – at the walls, at his feet, at other people.

"Thank you for not wearing a disco ball tonight," TJ says, leaning closer to whisper it in her ear. "I give him a minute or two before he hurls."

"You're terrible," she says, but she can't hide her grin. Dave does look like he's about to throw up. "Maybe he likes her."

God, she hopes she doesn't look like that right now. She'd never live that down.

TJ shakes his head. "Maybe her dress is making him dizzy."

Her laughter slips before she can catch it.

"You wouldn't catch me dead in all that glitter," she tells him.

"Uh, I seem to remember otherwise," TJ says, grinning. Spinelli tries to think of what he could be referring to and groans just before he says it. "All those sequins at that dance recital in fourth grade ring a bell?"

"That was not my choice. That was a costume."

He smiles, one corner of his mouth lifting a little higher than the other, his eyes sparkling sweetly. "You looked really pretty in it, you know? I can't remember the dance but I remember the outfit."

Oh, man, why is he doing this to her? This is just cruel. Her cheeks are flaming hot and even though it's dark in the gym she knows he's close enough to be able to tell. She leans close enough to bury her face in his shoulder, not wanting him to see how flustered he made her. Then she feels his arms circle around her, pulling her into what feels like more a hug than a dance. All their classmates are arms lengths away from each other and here the two of them are, chest to chest.

Though, she can't say she is upset that the song playing is eight minutes long.

Across the room, Vince walks away from the spot where he was originally standing with Phil after the other boy goes to the refreshment table. He barges through Randall and Menlo, not even paying attention as the two tell him off, and finally stops at his destination next to Gretchen. He is pleased to see that she is already looking in the direction of their two friends on the dance floor. At least he doesn't have to point them out to her.

He doesn't know why it bothers him so much. So what if Ashley B was right at that stupid party and they do actually like each other? It won't last. Crushes don't last. He has noticed girls, especially now that he has kissed one, and it never really lasts all that long. But TJ usually tells him about his crushes, just as Vince tells him, and he just figured that TJ would tell him if he had a crush on Spinelli.

It is Spinelli after all. Doesn't he have a right to know? A crush on someone in the group is a mandatory tell.

Together, Vince and Gretchen stare at TJ and Spinelli, unconsciously crossing their arms in unison as they watch their two best friends. The two aren't the only ones on the dance floor still, though some couples have broken apart during the long finale song, but there is something different about the two of them in comparison to the others. Whereas their classmates sway uncomfortably, awkwardly silent as they keep an arms length between them, TJ and Spinelli look like they've done this a thousand times before.

Vince's eyes focus on TJ, who seems to testing the limits of how close he can pull Spinelli before a teacher steps in to embarrass them for being too close. He narrows his eyes and shakes his head at his own jealousy. The summer will change everything. He and TJ will go off to camp and he'll forget all about Spinelli and when they start high school everything in their group's hierarchy will be back to normal.

Mikey comes to stand next to Gretchen and sighs loudly, capturing the two's attention away from their swaying friends.

"Oh, finally," Mikey says, holding a hand to his heart.

Gretchen turns away first. "Come again?"

Mikey blinks at his two friends in mild confusion before gesturing to TJ and Spinelli. "You didn't notice? Those two have liked each other forever. Since sixth grade at least."

"Wait, what?" Vince exclaims. Sixth grade? That's impossible.

Mikey chuckles at a memory. "Oh, yes. The younger kids all called our dear Spinelli 'Queen' behind our backs. They figured that TJ chose me as a bodyguard instead of her so Spinelli could take that role instead."

"Third Street never had a queen. You know that," Vince insists. "TJ chose you because Spinelli is a girl and no king has ever had a girl bodyguard before. That's it."

He remembers exactly how TJ chose his bodyguards, arguably the two most important positions a king fills on his playground. TJ came to him a few days after it was announced that he would be succeeding Freddy to discuss his choice for his second bodyguard, Vince being a no-brainer for the first.

TJ had, of course, been thinking of Spinelli for the other position. Most people assumed she'd be chosen, a rare move for a king to choose a girl bodyguard but at the end of fifth grade not many people thought of Spinelli as a girl yet. She was, to most of the playground, some sort of enigma that no one really wanted to cross. But, still, Vince didn't want TJ to have any issues and, knowing their class, someone might have made a comment, so he told him not to choose her.

He remembers exactly how he said it too. "Look, you can't ask Spin. She'd be great at it, but...Teej, she's a girl and that...you just can't do it." And that had been all the reason TJ needed to change his choice to Mikey and give Spinelli a new title all to herself.

He shakes his head again. That's exactly how that went down. There was no ulterior motive, no Queen debate, no nothing. So, Vince finishes his argument with, "You've just been watching too many romantic comedies again, big guy."

A sigh escapes Mikey's lips and he lets the topic drop. Instead he turns back to the dance floor, where the song is beginning to wind down.

Vince is right. Mikey is a bit of a romantic, always has been, and is even someone who believes in soulmates and all that. He has no doubts that when their two friends begin a relationship that it will be the first step in their lifelong partnership. But, he also knows that even if that isn't the way fate decides to take them, it isn't for him to decide. His purpose, as their friend, is to be supportive – in good times and in bad.

"What if they date?" Gretchen asks quietly beside him.

Vince grunts and Mikey turns to look at both of them. Gretchen looks up at him and Vince looks down at his feet. It isn't often that Gretchen asks questions of the gang. Usually it's Gretchen offering up solutions or statistics. But now Mikey sees a wave of uncertainty in her eyes.

"More specifically, I guess," she continues, crossing her arms and uncrossing them twice before finishing her thought. "What do we do if they break up?"

Again, Vince huffs and mumbles something about it _not happening so why worry about it_. But, Mikey knows Vince well enough to know that this is just denial. It's coming from a spot in Vince's heart that feels like he is being replaced as TJ's left-hand man, a position he has held mostly without question since kindergarten.

Mikey moves slightly so he stands between the two of them so he can rest either arm on Gretchen and Vince's shoulders.

"Well then, my friends, if that is the case we love them because that will be the hardest thing they'll ever do."

The other two don't respond. Not a peep comes out of either of them.

Gus appears beside them as the song ends. "Hey, there you are! I've been looking all over for you guys!"

The three glance toward the dance floor, seeing that TJ and Spinelli have since broken apart, just talking in the middle of the crowd of kids moving toward their various friend groups. Silently, the three agree not to mention their previous conversation to Gus. The poor kid is already so freaked out about high school as it is, they don't want to burden him with the idea that their friend group could be on the precipice of a major change that is completely out of their control.

...

 _Notes_

 _And that concludes middle school. Like I said in the notes last chapter, we flew through middle school because there really wasn't much change that happened for the gang in terms of their 'status quo' and high school is really when this starts to be tested. If there's anything you want to see from middle school, let me know and maybe I can have some outtakes posted along with the main story._

 _I'd love it if you leave a review and let me know what you think!_

 _See you all in high school._


	5. 9th Grade: September 2006, Pt 1

_Notes at the end._

 _..._

9th Grade, High School

Age: 13-14

 _September 2006_

 _..._

In the middle of September, the senior class begins to hang posters in the hallway announcing the theme for homecoming as Red Carpet Romance. After the first posters go up, it's all anyone can talk about in classes, passing in the hallways, on playing fields, and at lunch.

Homecoming was always a big deal when they were growing up. The whole town became awash in the school colors in preparation for the big Friday night football game. Store owners would hang signs and red and blue streamers in their windows. Alumni would be welcomed home with special discounts. Mr. Kelso always had a school-themed sundae that he dubbed "The Warrior" in honor of the high school mascot and nearly took an entire football team to eat. Mikey had managed to get his picture on the Wall of Fame for finishing it once.

Now that they're in high school, it's an even bigger deal. It's more than just the game and the parade. There is an entire Spirit Week leading up to Friday night, culminating in a pep rally that takes the place of Friday afternoon classes. The game is, as always, a big deal. But this year it's an even bigger deal for them as it's the first year they'll be separated in the stadium. Gus joined band in middle school, a way to connect with his father who would tell him about the USO during his tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, so Gus will march in the parade and sit in the band section of the bleachers. Vince and TJ, as members of the freshman football squad, will stand with the JV team right in the front of the student section. Spinelli, Mikey, and Gretchen will be a little farther up with the rest of the freshmen.

Though she hasn't said anything, Spinelli is the only one particularly perturbed with their segregation. Gretchen and Mikey may be two of her best friends but they are horrible football spectators. Mikey covers his eyes at every tackle and Gretchen's lectures on concussions and brain damage can really bring the game down. Ever since she was little she watched the game with Vince and TJ on either side. The three of them have been shouting at refs from the stands since kindergarten, when she begged her dad to bring her when he brought Joey. She had whined for days, neither of her parents believing that their _little Pookie_ would sit through an entire high school football game without wanting to go home.

The joke was on her father and Joey – they didn't see her the whole night. She stood with TJ, Vince, and Mr. LaSalle, complete with big red and blue bows in her hair, each the size of her face, her mother always so insistent on dressing her in the most stereotypical Southern little girl outfits.

It isn't like she's the only girl that likes football. Football is a way of life and Gretchen isn't the rule, she's the exception. Spinelli could probably get Meghan Rigalli and some of their other friends to stand on her other side, a new screaming buddy to hopefully drown out Mikey's shrieks of terror every time it takes more than a second for the tackled player to stand back up. But even Meghan and the rest of their soccer friends seem more concerned with picking out dresses for the dance than they are about the football game, a stark departure from middle school.

They had even asked her to come with them to Townsedge Mall after practice but she had ballet and couldn't. She wouldn't have minded going. She has to get a dress at some point and going with her friends would be infinitely better than going with her mother, but part of her also feels conflicted. She has her reputation to uphold and if she goes gallivanting off with her friends to the mall what will that say to the classmates that are just getting to know her? The kids who didn't go to Spiro Agnew need to realize she's the toughest girl in school. She hasn't asserted herself enough to look too girly yet.

She pulls on her boots and grabs her backpack from her locker, waving to Mademoiselle Pavlova and the younger dance class as she leaves. Everyone else is already gone, but she was late, having spent too long after practice talking about the stupid dance with Meghan and the rest, so Mademoiselle had her stay the extra time to help out with the younger kids.

She opens the door and smiles when she sees TJ leaning against the bike rack, his face buried in an old Senor Fusion comic. He must sense her coming because he looks up as she hits the last stair and starts to put the comic away.

"I was beginning to think you skipped today," he says, his eyebrow raised, his voice trailing off in a way that questions why she didn't walk out with the rest of her class without actually saying the words.

She would never skip ballet and TJ knows that. He is one of the few people who realize just how important ballet has become to her since her mother forced her into it back in elementary school. Enjoying ballet would brand her as a delicate priss, the exact antithesis of the image she has carefully designed. It's why she was late. Meghan didn't understand why Spinelli wouldn't skip something she complains about all the time to join their friends after practice. It had taken her more than a few feeble excuses to get the other girls off her back and by that point there was no way, even biking at her personal best speed, that she would arrive on time.

But she doesn't want to get into that and the dance and everything that might bring up. So instead she smirks.

"But you stayed anyway."

"I guess you can just call me a sucker," he says, adjusting his cap as his lip curls into a crooked smile that makes her gut bubble. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you all day."

That is because they stayed up until almost dawn texting each other and not only did TJ sleep through his alarm – which isn't unusual – she slept through hers, only waking up when her mother came in her room in a panic. Their usual lazy bike ride to school had been more of a race. She barely sat down in her seat, huffing and puffing, before the final bell. TJ hadn't been so lucky, earning a lunchtime detention from his first period teacher for walking in after the bell and disturbing everyone.

"Well, whose fault is that, Mister Comedian? I heard about your grand entrance."

"Mr. Fitzgerald doesn't understand a good tardy joke," TJ says, bending down to begin untethering her bike from the rack. "Everyone else thought it was hilarious."

"You knew you were gonna go down for it though. Fitzgerald's the worst."

He pulls her bike away from the rack and gives her a toothy grin.

"It was worth it. I've never seen anyone turn that red that quick." He chuckles to himself. "Fitz ignites faster than Prickly did and that's saying something."

"You're a disaster," she mumbles, but her cheeks hurt from how big her smile has become.

She reaches for her bike but TJ shakes her off.

"Nah, I've got it," he says, holding onto the handles.

"What about yours?"

"I walked," he says. He ducks his head sheepishly. "I figured we'd get a little more time that way."

Her gut bubbles again so she adjusts her soccer bag on her shoulder to give her something to focus on besides her stomach clenching.

TJ started waiting for her after ballet at the beginning of the school year after what she can only describe as a period of withdrawal. That's what it felt like. When preseason started in August, they barely saw each other with their vastly different schedules. The freshman teams had to fight for available field time, meaning that their practices never lined up at the same time. Then school started and they didn't have any classes together, just the schoolwide lunch period. This had been such a drastic change from camp –

She crosses her arms and looks at her feet. They haven't talked about the two weeks they spent at camp together since they've been home.

"Unless, you know, you have somewhere you have to go," TJ says, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She shakes her head and the disappointment melts from his face as they begin to walk. Just like that, the switch is flipped again and the nervous energy between them dissipates. TJ even knocks her arm with his, his typical cocky grin illuminating his face once more.

"So how come you didn't come out with everyone else?" he asks. "Mademoiselle Pavlova give you a fancy solo?"

She snorts.

"Close," she says sarcastically. "I was late so she decided to use me as free labor."

"And you were getting on my back about causing trouble today," he teases.

She gives her best nonchalant shrug. "We make a pretty good pair."

"Yeah we do."

He lets go of one of her handlebars to hold his hand up for a high five. She reciprocates and neither pulls their hand back. Her heart pounds as their arms start to drop with their hands still connected. With a slight adjustment, their fingers intertwine and they're holding hands walking down the street.

Her tongue ties as her heart keeps racing. Stupid is beyond an understatement for how she feels about that.

She doesn't know why her body is reacting like this. Holding TJ's hand is nothing new for her. TJ shows his affection for everyone through touch and has since they were little kids. Even in elementary school, when they were too young to realize the implications, he'd reach for her hand if he noticed she was more upset than an arm slung over her shoulder would help. It's so natural for TJ to touch her that despite not being a touchy-affectionate person herself, she feels an unbelievable sense of calm when he reaches for her – be it a hug, an arm on her shoulder, or a hand to hold.

But something happened at camp. Or maybe it was before camp. She can't really pinpoint any exact moment, just that while they were at camp there was a weight to the action. Maybe it was that they were alone, surrounded by a camp of strangers. Maybe it was because they danced at the semi-formal dance and then again at the camp dance. Maybe it's because she thinks he might like her back. But for whatever reason, the act holds a heavier weight now, one that bubbles in her gut and makes her heart race and all sorts of other feelings.

She really wishes she could read his mind because she would rather die than out herself when she isn't a hundred percent sure he feels the same.

Eventually her heart calms down and they walk in a comfortable quiet. TJ is usually a Chatty Cathy, which makes her wonder if his tongue is tied just like hers, the nerves too much to let any words out. She wishes she could say something, get them talking, and maybe it would feel more like normal.

Mr. Kelso steps out of his store just as they're approaching. They both let go at the same time, as if the other's hand has caught fire, but she notices Kelso glance down to where they were joined, the old man then looking up at them with a sly smirk.

Maybe she's imagining that last part.

"Hello, TJ. Spinelli," he says, in the genial way that Mr. Kelso always greets them. She likens Mr. Kelso to Mr. Rogers – kind, warm, but knowledgeable of the ins and outs of everyone in his neighborhood. "Just putting up this sign. Can't believe homecoming is 'round again."

TJ's voice comes back before hers.

"Yeah." It's a little pitchy, like it was in middle school, but he shakes out of it quick enough. "It seems unreal that we're actually gonna be a part of the whole thing this year."

"The float decorating for the parade should be a good time," Kelso says. He grins a little too wide. "And the dance too. Do you have dates?"

Spinelli is sure that if she looked in the mirror she would be bright red at Kelso's fishing. But TJ doesn't even bat an eyelash.

"Come on, Mr. Kelso. We're freshmen. Freshmen never go with dates."

"That's not true," she mumbles. Then she slams her lips together to keep from saying anything else.

 _This_ is what she wanted to avoid. The girls on the soccer team were teasing her this afternoon, her crush apparently obvious to them. She is loathed to admit that if TJ asked her to go as more than friends she would say yes, even though it's completely against everything she wants to portray to the rest of the school.

TJ shrugs. "Yeah, I mean, the Ashleys will probably con some suckers into going with them," he says to her before turning back to Kelso. "But we're going as a group. Just like old times. The two of us and the guys."

"And Gretchen."

TJ turns back to her with his face contorted in confusion. "What?"

"You said the guys. Gretch's a girl."

TJ shakes his head. "You know what I meant."

She crosses her arms and scowls. This shouldn't bother her. Whenever their group is talked about in the collective, everyone is included in _the guys_. But today it ticks her off. If she hadn't been standing there and instead it was Vince or Gus or Mikey, TJ would have probably said the same thing. _The two of us and the guys_. Kelso would have understood that she and Gretchen were included but still.

She moves over and grabs the handlebars of her bike.

"That actually reminds me. I forgot I was supposed to meet Gretch after ballet," she lies. She is sure both TJ and Kelso can see right through her. "I'll see you later. Bye, Mr. Kelso."

"Wait, Spin–"

But she doesn't turn around. Instead she hops on her bike and starts peddling. She turns down Third Street and passes the playground, seeing Vince at the basketball hoop. He shoots a hundred free throws every day after practice and she figures that must be what he's doing. She could go over and blow off some steam. Vince usually lets her interrupt his free throws for a game of HORSE but TJ will walk down here and see her if she stays and she really doesn't want to get into it with him. So, instead she just keeps going, dropping her bike by the garage when she gets home. Scruffy, her family's big baby of a mutt, comes running to the door to greet her, tail wagging and ready to jump up on her.

Scruffy calms her down, even if she knows it's temporary. As soon as TJ sees her bike he'll know she's home and not at Gretchen's. Even if he doesn't check for it, she knows he'll still call or text her, wanting to know what made her run and if he has to apologize for anything. She doesn't want to think about that right now so instead she just focuses on Scruffy, who has now sunk to the floor for a belly rub, his tail wagging and his eyes begging.

So she follows him down to the ground, kneeling in order to give him what he wants, not able to say no.

...

The student government, or Student Senate as it's called, is one of the few clubs in the entire school with open membership and no tryouts. Anyone is allowed to join and for the first half of freshman year, it's a little bit of a free for all. Not wanting to overwhelm the freshmen with elections right off the back, there is no president and his cabinet until the second semester, and so for the first half of the year the faculty advisory that the class will have for the four years of high school leads the Senate in their activities.

For the freshmen, that means Franklin Dudikoff.

This is the first year that the twenty-five-year-old is teaching at his old school district and he is glad to be back in familiar hallways. He had interned at each of his three former schools during his undergrad education and had made the switch from elementary to secondary education after sitting in on an honors physics class. He was hooked.

He particularly likes the idea of having the freshmen Senate – they are still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, still excited about every new thing but also still too nervous to step too far out of line. And he would get to grow with them, see them off to colleges and jobs. He is excited, to say the least, to be entrusted with the fourteen-year-olds' still wide-open minds.

But no one is quite as excited to see him as TJ Detweiler.

The minute Mr. Dudikoff walks in the room, he grins and leans over in his seat to whisper in Spinelli's ear.

"Spin, it's The Dude!"

She shakes her head at him, rolling her eyes at his childlike excitement, but then TJ feels Vince elbow him on his other side and he turns that way. Vince nods his head toward the front of the classroom.

"Isn't that The Dude?"

TJ nods. His appearance has changed a lot more than The Dude's had in the five years since Mr. Dudikoff had student taught in Ms. Grotke's fourth grade, so while the teacher may not recognize him, he is sure that this is the same guy. The Dude, as he was called at Third Street, had been playground folklore brought to life in their classroom for a week – a former king, a Prankster Prince, Numero Uno on Muriel Finster's Most Wanted List. Frank Dudikoff was everything TJ has ever wanted to be and more.

Having The Dude as their faculty advisor is going to be very tender.

The first Senate meeting for the freshmen occurs the week before the homecoming football game, in order for the class to prepare for the Spirit Week leading up to the game and dance. Mr. Dudikoff stands at the front, going over everything that needs to be done in preparation. They need to advertise to the other freshmen about the daily dress-up days that had been decided by the seniors. They need to decorate the "freshman hallway" – the first floor hall to the left of the main lobby that housed some math classrooms – in the freshman theme, which was always "School Spirit" so they didn't have to choose themselves. They also need to decorate the freshman float that will be used in the homecoming parade to ride down Grand Street and welcome the varsity football team to the field on Friday night. All in all, there's a lot of work to do and they need to recruit more of their classmates to get it done.

"So, where do we want to start?" Mr. Dudikoff asks.

There are about twenty or thirty students packed in the tiny room during their lunch period and no one seems to want to be the first to talk. The teacher just waits, figuring someone will take the lead eventually.

TJ looks around to see if anyone is going to talk and then he raises his hand, standing up in the process.

"I think we need to divide and conquer," he says, walking up to the front and pointing out the different events that the teacher has written on the board. He takes his own dry-erase marker and looks out at the students. "Anyone have any preferences? Ashleys, I know you do. So, spill."

"Like, put us down to be the decorators," Ashley A tells TJ. "We'll be heads of the decorating committee."

"Yes, we'll do the designing for the float and the hallway," Ashley B continues.

In the back, Spinelli leans across TJ's empty chair toward Vince, who leans down to meet her.

"So, basically, they're planning on bossing the rest of us around and not getting their hands dirty," she says.

Vince smirks. "But, you see, they _just_ got their nails done, so it would just be unfair for them to have to do any work and ruin them."

Spinelli snorts and the four Ashleys turn around in their seats to glare at her, even though Vince is also snickering at his own joke. The four girls still look perturbed as they turn back to the front, where TJ is taking names for actually decorating the float and the hallway.

She turns to Mr. Dudikoff, who has completely handed TJ the reins and instead sits on the windowsill with his arms crossed and a sort of awed smile on his face. It is pretty incredible how easily TJ can work a room. She barely recognizes some of the kids, especially the ones who didn't go to Spiro Agnew for middle school, and yet TJ knows every single person's name, never having to awkwardly pause when writing down who will be decorating what and making sure they have enough hands on deck to get both done.

"You five fools in the back," TJ teases once he has the majority of the board filled with names and times of the rest of their classmates. "What day? Thursday or Friday?"

The hallway will be done on Thursday in preparation for the School Spirit Day on Friday. Then in the time between school and the homecoming football parade on Friday they'll work on the float, starting in as soon as the flatbed arrives. The Ashleys, unfortunately, will be at both as the designated decorators, so that's not really a deciding factor.

"Can we do Thursday night?" Gus asks. "I need to be with the band on Friday."

Spinelli wrinkles her nose. She has both morning and afternoon ballet sessions on Thursday, to accommodate the big homecoming hubbub on Friday, so she won't be able to do it, but she also doesn't want to make a big stink about it in front of everyone. She'd get labeled by these new kids as a dainty priss because even though knows how physically tough it is to be a dancer the rest of the school does not - and she will not lose her rep in the first month of freshman year.

The groups are pretty even anyway. It's not like she'll be missed. She'll just talk to TJ on the way out if she even needs to make the distinction. She's sure some of these kids will flake out anyway.

The meeting doesn't last much longer after that. They don't have to vote for a theme for their hallway or float since the freshman theme is always the school colors. So, with a plan for the hallway and the float, they're left to enjoy the small amount of lunch they've got left. Most people file out but TJ gets stopped by Mr. Dudikoff.

"Teej, we'll meet you in the hallway!" Vince calls out and TJ waves them off.

At first Spinelli follows Vince, but once they make it to the door she turns around. If The Dude is taking the names, she should probably make her switch known.

"Well, that was a lot more efficient than I was planning," she hears Mr. Dudikoff say as she walks over to the front.

TJ shrugs in response. "Eh, you just have to be direct or the Ashleys will walk all over you."

"Class elections for freshmen aren't until January, but I take it you're interested."

Again TJ shrugs. "There's some stiff competition."

She rolls her eyes. Since when does TJ have competition for things like this? There hadn't been class presidents or even student council in middle school, but TJ would have been it if there had been.

TJ turns and smiles at her. "Hey! What are you still doing here?"

She nods to the board. "I have ballet on Thursday so I need to switch."

"Oh, right, I should have remembered that," TJ mutters.

She feels her stomach clench in response. None of their other friends remembered yet he thinks it's important. She watches as he erases her name and his from Thursday on the board and rewrites them in the Friday lineup, leaving the other four on Thursday. If her stomach flips anymore it's going to end up in her throat.

He turns and smiles. "There. All fixed."

He didn't have to move his own name. Honestly, he'll probably go both days anyway to make sure the Ashleys don't turn the float pink or whatever. But he moved his name _with_ hers and even though there's no one else left in the room except Mr. Dudikoff, it feels important.

His behavior toward her has been almost infuriating lately. They haven't had much time alone since she freaked out at Kelso's. Their morning bike rides have been quiet and when they're around their friends it's business as usual. It's their text messages that have taken a new turn. If she wasn't sure he was flirting with her before, she's sure now. He'll type things that sound cliché and romantic but outside of that bubble nothing ever comes to fruition. All flirtatiousness drops outside of the virtual world they've created.

Maybe she's reading too much into things.

"Here, I'm just gonna write these names on paper really quickly," TJ says, but Mr. Dudikoff shakes him off.

"I've got it. You're not class president yet," the young teacher jokes. "Go on. I'll see you two later."

TJ balks enough to be polite but doesn't take too much more prodding to leave the rest of the work to Dudikoff and he and Spinelli leave the room. The other four are still waiting for them, leaning against the wall outside of the classroom. The bell rings just as they converge and a few of them groan. There goes the rest of lunch.

"What are you guys going to do for the spirit days?" Gus asks as they head for the stairs. They all have class on the second or third floors, so they'll have a little distance together before they have to separate.

"Well, the first two days are perfect opportunities to do group costumes," Mikey suggests. "That could be fun."

Spinelli rolls her eyes. "It could also be lame."

TJ runs ahead just enough to beat them to the stairwell, standing on the first step to face his five friends.

"Safari Day will be easy," he says. "I can be the guide and you all can dress up as animals."

"How come you get to be the guide?" Spinelli complains. "I'm not going to walk around school all day looking like a giraffe!"

"Of course you're not, you'd be the shortest giraffe ever," Vince says with a smirk. "I'm in! I'll be a jaguar – they're the fastest."

"Actually," Gretchen says, pushing up her glasses. "The Jaguar may be the fastest car, but the cat is not the fastest land animal. That would be the cheetah."

He shrugs. "Same thing."

"I think I'll be a zebra," Gus interrupts, seeing Gretchen open her mouth to discuss the differences between the two big cats. "That should be an easy costume."

After Mikey and Gretchen also agree, TJ turns to Spinelli with a grin. "Got the majority. What's it gonna be, Spin? You in or out?"

She crosses her arms and glares, but after a minute she caves, just as he knew she would.

"Aww man, Teej," she groans. "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"

"Perfect, we'll figure your animal out later," he says, turning to the rest of the gang. "Because we also need to split up for Twin Tuesday."

He glances at the gang. "Mikey and Gus, you're both blond. Happy twinning." Then he debates for a second – do the more logical thing and put Gretchen with Spinelli because they're both girls or put Gretchen with Vince so he can be with Spinelli. "Gretchen and Vince, you're both tall. That means, Spin, you're with me."

The rest of the spirit week dress-up days – Pajama Day on Wednesday, Superhero Day on Thursday, and School Spirit Day on Friday – don't have any immediate pairings, so they leave those alone as they rush up the stairs for class.

...

 _Notes:_

 _Spinelli's dog Scruffy is mentioned in a few episodes but is never seen. I decided that he's a mutt for the purposes of this story._

 _Mr. Dudikoff was a student teacher at Third Street when the gang was in 4th grade and given how nervous he was and how he was only there for a week, I guessed that it was his first rotation, which would probably make him a junior in college and about 20/21. Hence how he is 25 now. He has been a 'real' teacher rather than a student for about three years, but this is his first year back in his own school district._

 _One question I have for you is in terms of the formatting of this story. Freshman year will be segmented into 3 parts - September (surrounding homecoming), January (surrounding the election), and April/May (surrounding the end of the school year). I currently have the entirety of September done and it sits at about 36 pages in Microsoft Word (15,000 words). I'm estimating January and the Spring one to follow similar formats. What would you prefer:_

 _1\. Do as I've done with 8th grade and cut them into more manageable chapter lengths (so we have September 2006 part 1, September 2006 part 2, etc)_

 _2\. Put the whole chapter in its entirety even if it's very long_

 _I'm leaning toward option 1 to make it more manageable to read at a time, but I thought I'd put it out to you all._

 _Please let me know your thoughts!_


	6. 9th Grade: September 2006, Pt 2

_Thank you all so much for the feedback on the last chapter. I really appreciate hearing from you all._

 _Just to answer a few recurrent questions:_

 _1\. While there will be parallels and some of the same themes/events, this story does not take place in the same 'universe' as the one-shots that I've written. I hope that makes sense._

 _2\. Mr. Dudikoff's age – my thoughts are that he was a student teacher/university student when he was teaching the gang at Third Street for a week in the series, making him about 21/22 if he was a junior in college. Thus, he is 25 now. I added a note at the end of the last chapter explaining this in more detail._

 _Now, in honor of Gretchen's birthday today (March 23_ _rd_ _, per the episode 'Outcast Ashley'), here is the next installment of fall of freshman year with Gretchen as narrator._

 _Chapter notes, as always, will be at the end._

…

9th Grade, High School

Age: 13-14

 _September 2006_

…

Gretchen looks up from her book when TJ slams his lunch tray down on the table.

"It's barely been twenty-four hours and the Ashleys are _already_ on my last nerve with this whole spirit week thing," he grumbles. "How is it even possible for them to be so..."

"Obnoxious?" Spinelli supplies.

"Self-absorbed?" Vince asks.

"Inconsiderate?" Gus guesses.

TJ gestures with his hand in a swirling motion. "That about covers it."

"Are they trying to turn the float pink or something?" Spinelli asks.

TJ shakes his head. "Nah. They're sticking to the red and blue, school colors and mascot theme fine. It's just that Dudikoff gave us a budget and they've already blown through it."

"Maybe Daddy's Amex will help with the cash flow," Vince says. "I wouldn't worry about it, Teej. What I would worry about is how Danny Smith doesn't seem to be able to catch the freaking ball and he's going to completely humiliate us during the homecoming game if he keeps it up."

Gretchen only knows who Danny Smith is because he is the varsity starting wide receiver and Vince has been nitpicking his technique all year. Though she has been attending the high school games with her friends for years now, she wouldn't call herself a football expert. Since elementary school, Vince and TJ would go to every home game and Spinelli often tagged along, meaning Gretchen got dragged right along with her. Over the years she picked up a few of the basics, but she spent much of the previous couple of years sitting in the bleacher row with Mikey and Gus, discussing other things, while the other three screamed at referees and actually understood the finer points of the game. Gretchen knew that when the stands booed it was bad and when the stands cheered it was good – and if she was being perfectly honest, that's about as much as she felt she needed to know.

"Hey, Gretch?"

Gretchen turns away from Vince, who has since moved on from Danny Smith and is now talking football stats with TJ, and toward Spinelli. The other girl is currently ignoring the boys to catch her attention, while Gus and Mikey watch TJ and Vince go back and forth about football stats.

"Do you have your homecoming dress yet?" Spinelli asks. Gretchen shakes her head. "My mom and I are going this weekend. Want to come?"

She chuckles a little under her breath. Spinelli and her mother have two drastically different styles and Gretchen often gets dragged in to buffer them. Like in elementary school when they went to the makeup museum or last year when they were choosing their outfits for the eighth grade semi-formal dance.

"Sure, we haven't had a girl's day in a while."

Spinelli smiles. "That's what I was thinking too."

She actually hasn't seen much of Spinelli since the school year started and even less of her one-on-one. She has English class with her and lunch like right now, but other than that their schedules are completely different. Between Spinelli's soccer and ballet practices and Gretchen's various academic club meetings, they rarely get a moment where they're both free. And the last few times she's seen Spinelli outside of school, TJ and Vince have joined them.

Speaking of TJ, his arm flopping over Spinelli's shoulder catches both of their attentions.

"What are you two smiling about?" he says, teasingly, poking a finger gently at one of Spinelli's dimples.

She swats his hand away. "Just girly stuff."

Vince snorts. "Girly stuff? You?"

Spinelli raises her fist in response. "What's it to you?" she sneers.

Gretchen cuts in. "We're discussing the homecoming dance and what we're going to wear."

"Wait, why do you need to discuss that?" Gus asks. "Is it that important?"

"Why of course!" Mikey says. "It's the first dance of our high school career. We must make a good impression."

Gretchen sees Vince look from Mikey to TJ, his eyes sparkling with an impending joke. He leaps from his seat and kneels down next to TJ's chair, almost like he's proposing.

"Oh, Teej, whatever will we wear?" he squeals, his voice high pitched and somewhat mockingly. "We _have_ to look our best for all the _boys_ with our hair done _just right_."

TJ can't help but laugh and join in, turning away from the others to take Vince's hands in his own.

"Something real girly, all pink and junk," he responds in the same high-pitched squeal that Vince just used. "We just _have_ to out-pretty the Ashleys."

"Oh, like, totally," Vince says, mocking the Ashleys by fluttering his eyelashes and the two boys break down in laughter, so hard Vince nearly as tears in his eyes.

Gus laughs right along with them but Gretchen sees Mikey looking at Spinelli so she turns as well. The other girl has her arms crossed and is staring at the table in front of her with enough intensity to put holes through it. Gretchen sighs. Spinelli's transition from being the playground tomboy hasn't been easy and some of that is definitely due to the boys commenting every time she tries something new.

Gretchen hasn't had the same struggle. Of the two, she was always seen as the girly one so any time she adjusted her style or fixed her glasses or changed her hair, Mikey and Spinelli tended to be the only ones to comment on it.

"Well, I think you'll both look like the belles of the ball," Mikey says, as soon as TJ and Vince quiet down. The way he says it is more pointed toward Vince and TJ than it is toward the two girls, trying to get the boys to see what they're missing.

Spinelli keeps her eyes down as TJ puts his hand on her shoulder. It almost looks like Spinelli flinches.

"Come on, Spin. We're just teasing," he says, his voice low and his eyes shining with guilt.

Across the table, Vince nods as he retakes his seat.

"Yeah, we all know what you're gonna wear anyway." Vince starts ticking his fingers as he talks. "Your boots. Your jacket. Some sort of black dress. And you're gonna complain about the shoes your mom wanted you to wear the whole time."

Gretchen watches for any sudden movements. Spinelli is a little bit of a loose cannon when she feels attacked. But, rather than rip Vince's head off or have a meltdown, she just sighs.

"Yeah, well, if she didn't insist on taking my boots, we wouldn't have that problem," Spinelli mumbles. Then she looks up. "But I'll do what I want."

"That's my girl," TJ says, tugging on one of her braids.

Gretchen frowns at the shade of pink that overtakes Spinelli's cheeks. Interesting.

...

There are so many dresses at the store Gretchen and Spinelli go to, an entire section apparently cleared out to accommodate the homecoming selection. Mrs. Spinelli acts like she has just walked into her own personal heaven and quickly starts shifting through the racks, pointing out dresses she thinks would look 'stunning' or 'beautiful' on both of them.

Gretchen has no issues piling the dresses Mrs. Spinelli deems worthy into her arms. Her body type is nothing like Mrs. Spinelli's – long and gangly still, not much unlike her body had been in elementary school, with limbs that still looked too long for her person – but that doesn't stop Mrs. Spinelli from apparently understanding exactly what will look nice on Gretchen's body. She can't explain it. She has intellectual gifts. Mrs. Spinelli has the gift of style.

As is usually the case, Spinelli has a lot more difficulty in her selection. By the time Gretchen has nearly a dozen in her pile, Spinelli still has none.

"How about this one?" Gretchen asks, pulling out a plain red skater style chiffon dress not too dissimilar to the dress she had worn last year.

Spinelli turns, glances briefly, and shakes her head before turning back to the rack she's digging through. "That's not really what I'm looking for."

"It comes in black too."

She doesn't even turn. "No."

"How about some of these, Pookie?" her mother asks, coming over with an armful of fabric. She lifts a few dresses similar to what Gretchen had pulled, to which her daughter shakes her head, and a fairly pretty black one with an almost metallic shimmer. "You could even wear your boots with this one."

Her mother at least _tries_ to hide the grimace as she says the last part.

"No, I don't want that," Spinelli forces through her teeth. Then she storms out of the section, leaving her mother and Gretchen to glance between them.

"Maybe we should just let her cool down," Mrs. Spinelli says. "Why don't you go try on yours while we wait?"

Gretchen glances back toward Spinelli, who is stomping through the racks, and nods her head. There's never any use trying to reason with her when she's like this. It's best to do exactly what Spinelli's mother suggested and let her cool off.

In the time it takes Gretchen to try on all of her dresses and pick one – a light blue one with a lace overlay and cap sleeves so she feels covered enough – Spinelli at least picks something. She hurries by as Gretchen exits the dressing room, as if she doesn't want Gretchen to see her selections.

Rather than going back out to the waiting area where Mrs. Spinelli is sitting, Gretchen makes an abrupt turn and knocks on the door to Spinelli's stall.

"Do you need any help?" she asks.

"Hold on."

Gretchen turns around and leans against the door, hanging her dress from the top of the stall door so she doesn't have to hold it. She listens to the rustling behind the door and then it stops. Spinelli is definitely in her first dress now and Gretchen waits for the door to open.

"Do you want me to get your mom?" she calls over after a minute of no response.

"No!"

"Are you okay in there?"

There's a sigh and a click of the door lock undoing. Gretchen moves a little so the door can open and she walks into the dressing room, stopping in her tracks and ends up getting hit by the stall door as it shuts.

The dress Spinelli chose to try on is pretty but definitely not what Gretchen expected. The dress is a shade of coral pink with an all-over golden shimmer, fitted to the waist and then flaring out in a circle-cut skirt. Gretchen has a suspicion that the v-neck is supposed to be more fitted and that Spinelli picked a size too large. It's completely different than anything she has ever seen Spinelli wear before.

"I look stupid, don't I?" Spinelli says, looking down at her feet. Her boots have been kicked off into a corner and she stands there in her mismatched socks.

Gretchen shakes her head, still slightly shocked by the sight of Spinelli in pink. She doesn't think she has _ever_ seen Spinelli wear pink. Even the frilliest dresses that her mother would buy for school picture days and other formal events were never pink.

But she knows she has to say _something_ before Spinelli tears the dress off and writes off homecoming shopping for good.

"No, it is very pretty," Gretchen says. Then she reaches forward and pulls the back, looking at the size. "You could probably use an extra-small though."

Spinelli sighs and rolls her eyes, turning around and glancing in the mirror. She uses her hands to push her chest. "This just makes me look super flat."

"Since when has that ever concerned you?" Gretchen asks. "In fact, I seem to remember you saying in fifth grade after the puberty video, and I quote, _I hope I never grow breasts_."

Spinelli turns to glare at her.

"I wouldn't have said _breasts_ ," she mocks, ignoring the question. "And don't bring that up ever again. I still have nightmares of Ms. Finster explaining why boobs are so great. If I had known _that_ was coming, I never would have opened my big fat mouth."

Gretchen winces at the memory, but doesn't let it distract her like she thinks Spinelli was attempting to do. This is still odd behavior for her and she needs to figure out where it's coming from before she makes any sudden movements. She furrows her brow and eyes Spinelli, standing in front of her in a pink dress, trying to figure out what would possess her friend to do something like that.

Spinelli turns around and frowns. "What?"

"Well," Gretchen says. "I'm just trying to understand your motives."

"My motives?" Spinelli repeats, an eyebrow raised. "What are you? A detective?"

Gretchen nods. "You brought in and tried on one dress and it's _pink._ Then you complained about having a flat chest in the pink dress you tried on. Even you have to admit that's more than slightly abnormal."

Spinelli crosses her arms, but when she speaks her tone doesn't match the assertiveness of her actions. "Maybe I wanted to try something different?"

Gretchen thinks on that for a moment.

"Is this supposed to be a subtle way of telling us that you'd like to be called Ashley now?" she asks.

Though the Ashleys are still a powerful clique, there are other girls in the school named Ashley besides just them and Spinelli. She supposes that it wouldn't be completely out of the question for Spinelli to grow out of her aversion to her first name. Considering in most contexts besides school that's how she's referred to, Gretchen feels it is a likely hypothesis. And if it's false, perhaps it will spur Spinelli into telling the truth.

Spinelli groans and leans back, letting her head hit the dressing room wall.

"No," she insists, uncrossing her arms and glaring at her feet. "I'm just trying to...out-pretty the Ashleys." Her voice then takes on a mocking tone. "Something real girly. All pink and junk."

Gretchen waits for her to elaborate, but it doesn't come. She doesn't exactly know how to tread with this topic. She had expected a struggle in the dressing room when it came to finding Spinelli's homecoming dress, but she hadn't been prepared for Spinelli to step completely out of her comfort zone like this. A pink dress...the boys are going to be shocked.

Oh, this is starting to make more sense to her.

"Your choice of dress doesn't by any chance have anything to do with what happened at lunch the other day, does it?" she asks.

Spinelli scowls and that's all the answer Gretchen needs. She takes a step forward and moves to stand against the wall so they're side-by-side.

"You know Vince just says stuff like that because he knows it will rile you up," Gretchen says. "He has been doing it since kindergarten and I don't foresee him stopping any time soon."

Spinelli sighs and slides against the wall. She lands on the floor and curls her legs up into her chest, pressing her face to her knees. When she replies, it just sounds like muffled nonsense.

"You are going to have to remove your face from your knees if you want me to understand," Gretchen says.

Spinelli lifts her head, her cheeks ruddy. "I said that I don't care about what Vince thinks."

"Well, the others are just the same. They all know that you're a girl. You don't have to wear a pink dress to prove to Mikey, Gus, and T–"

She stops mid-name, realizing suddenly where the pink dress issue originated. She vaguely remembers TJ speaking similar words to Spinelli's mockery during that lunchtime incident a few days prior.

"Oh."

Spinelli tugs her knees closer to her chest and rests her head sideways on the caps. "Yeah."

Gretchen hadn't really given much thought to Spinelli and TJ since the middle school semi-formal dance. The summer happened and she forgot. Spinelli's love life wasn't particularly high on her list of concerns for the new semester.

"I can't believe I've sunk this low," Spinelli grumbles. "Wearing a pink dress just so TJ will realize I'm a girl."

"He knows you're a girl," Gretchen deadpans. "It's pretty obvious."

Spinelli crosses her arms. "Well, what about when he calls us _the guys_ or how he doesn't act the same when we're by ourselves as when we're with literally anyone else? Huh?"

Gretchen steps forward and moves to sit beside Spinelli, both girls sitting against the back wall of the stall now. She looks over and waits for Spinelli to continue, but she doesn't. They sit in silence for a few moments before Gretchen sighs. They've been in here for too long. Mrs. Spinelli is bound to come in looking for them and once she does Spinelli will retreat.

"Since I'm not privy to what occurs when you and TJ are alone, it might be helpful to know before I respond," Gretchen says.

Spinelli sighs, letting her legs flop on the ground ahead of her and slamming her head into floor length mirror behind them.

"You can't tell anyone."

Gretchen raises her eyebrows. "Who would I tell? My friends in the science club don't care. I'm sure of it."

"The guys." Spinelli gives her a stern glare. "I'm serious. Because if Vince finds out, TJ finds out."

"TJ is half of this equation. He already knows what's going on," Gretchen says. Spinelli's mouth forms a thin line. "Okay, I promise. Explain."

Spinelli fiddles with the hem of the dress. The pink fabric shimmers under the fluorescent dressing room lights.

"Okay, so, um, at camp we kind of held hands a lot and that was good. I...I liked it and I think he liked it. But then we came home and nothing happened. Which, fine, whatever. That's fine. But then..." She lets out a breath. "He's been meeting me after ballet and the other day we walked home, well most of the way home, and, um, we held hands again. We haven't since but, um, like he's been texting me really flirty messages and I know TJ's a huge flirt anyway but, it's different."

"Can I see?"

Spinelli nods and stands, going to the pocket of her leather jacket to pull out her cellphone. She flips it out so Gretchen can get into the messages.

The first thing Gretchen notices is how late the texts are being sent. Gretchen has stayed awake past midnight before, working on experiments and other hobbies she doesn't have time to do during the day, but some of these messages are being sent at two or three in the morning. Entire conversations take place at dawn.

"How many texts are you allowed during a month?" Gretchen asks. Her plan allows a couple hundred a month and she never reaches the maximum.

Spinelli fiddles with her fingers. "Yeah, my dad wasn't thrilled with the bill," she mumbles. "Oops."

Gretchen shakes her head and pokes into another one of the text threads. A lot of it is back and forth banter, typical of what the two would normally say in person, but the more recent the texts, the more flirtatious they get.

She looks back up and hands the phone back.

"So, are you guys dating now?" Gretchen asks.

Spinelli shakes her head. "No. I'm not even sure he likes me."

Gretchen's eyes widen. "Are you reading the text messages he's sending? He's never called me _the most beautiful girl in school._ "

"I know," Spinelli says, putting her face in her hands. "Part of me thinks that but then part of me thinks that I'm...just there. Like, yeah, it's fun and I like him and I respond to his flirts but he doesn't act on it at all. Maybe he's practicing with me? I don't know."

Gretchen shakes her head. "Have you asked?"

"No!" Spinelli crosses her arms. "Absolutely not. I'm not putting myself on the line to have him laugh in my face. Or get scared off. Nope. No way."

She honestly thinks that if Spinelli just brought it up to TJ, the two would start dating and the fear Spinelli has for risking their friendship would evaporate. But there is a small, selfish, part of Gretchen that knows something Spinelli hasn't realized yet, or may never at all. Gretchen knows the statistics. She knows this is something their group will not survive. Even if the two stay together through high school and end up getting married, the dynamics are already shifting. When the two of them finally get their act together, the group will change whether Spinelli and TJ notice or not, and Gretchen isn't exactly ready to brace for that reality.

So, she decides right then and there, she is not getting involved in any of her friends' love lives. They can make decisions on their own. If TJ isn't going to say anything, she isn't going to say it for him.

"Okay, well, regardless we have to find you a dress," she says. Spinelli doesn't fight the change in subject, so Gretchen continues. "Do you seriously want to wear a pink dress?"

Spinelli looks at herself in the mirror and winces. "This was dumb."

Gretchen stands up and shakes her head. "No, it wasn't dumb. I just don't think you'll be comfortable wearing a pink dress."

Spinelli nods her head and they decide to go back out to find a new dress for her in the racks. They drop the pink dress on the return rack and, seeing that Mrs. Spinelli has found an acquaintance to chat with, they sneak by her and back out onto the main floor. Gretchen wishes they could pull her in for some help. She has no idea what Spinelli is looking for and even if she did, clothing isn't exactly her forte. As much as Spinelli hates to admit it, her mother has a knack for this kind of thing.

The two girls pull a few choices each and go back into the dressing room. Most of Gretchen's are nixed on their hangers – "Gretchen, that looks like something my _grandmother_ would wear!" – and Spinelli picks one of her own to try first. Gretchen isn't sure what surprises her more, the fact that Spinelli is trying on multiple dresses without complaint or the fact that the dresses are all fashionable and potentially even something that would be Ashley-approved.

Maybe Spinelli is more like her mother than she lets anyone know.

"What about this one?" Spinelli asks, spinning around in a dark emerald green dress that's similar in style to the pink dress she tried.

She nods her head. "I like it."

The smaller girl turns back toward the mirror. She sways the fabric around her knees.

"Yeah, I feel a lot better in this one than the pink one."

Gretchen nods and wonders if Spinelli picked it because she actually likes it or if it has anything to do with the fact that TJ's favorite color is green. She has to admit it's odd to be in the loop now. Before, when she just saw Spinelli's feelings for TJ from afar, she could ignore it most of the time. Now she looks at her friend and questions if Spinelli's cutesy twirl is just her growing up or if it has to do with TJ or if it's some combination of the two.

…

 _Notes_

 _For anyone who remembers the mid-to-late 2000s, unlimited texting was not a thing most people had. Different plans offered different rates, but most had a cap on the number of text messages that could be sent during the month and if you went over you were charged with a bunch of fees. It was almost a rite of passage for a teenager in the '00s to get in trouble with their parents over sending too many text messages or using too many minutes. That was always a point of contention in my house anyway. This is what Gretchen and Spinelli are referring to about the number of text messages she and TJ are sending and why Mr. Spinelli was unhappy to see the cellphone bill, in case you're wondering._

 _This chapter may seem like filler, but it's really setting up for a few different storylines. Obviously, freshmen year is very TJ/Spinelli focused and will continue to be as the story progresses – as I think it's a major issue for their group. Like Gretchen said, it makes the dynamics of the group a little dicey. But I'm also really excited to delve into each of the individual character's arcs and Spinelli's is one that I'm most excited to share. I've noticed a lot of stories on this site focus on her physical appearance mirroring her mother's, making her 'mature' more quickly than others and having issues with her curves. I'm going in a slightly different direction, though it will all come back to her reputation because…that's Spinelli. I hope you enjoy her journey as much as I do._

 _Also, right now the other characters seem like a vessel for TJ/Spinelli – that will change. So, if you're excited to read about Vince, Gretchen, Gus, and Mikey outside of TJ and Spinelli, that's coming, I promise._

 _I think the only episode reference in this chapter is 'More Like Gretchen'._

 _There will be one more chapter in the fall of 9_ _th_ _grade section, narrated by Vince and Spinelli. Hopefully, I'll get that up sometime this coming week, depending on my class workload._

 _In the meantime, let me know how you enjoyed this chapter and what you're most interested about moving forward. I also love seeing your recommendations – perhaps we'll see Mr. E and Jared Smith show up like you suggested. You never know!_


	7. 9th Grade: September 2006, Pt 3

_Chapter notes, as always, will be at the end._

…

9th Grade, High School

Age: 13-14

 _September 2006_

…

Practice ends with a team-wide cheer and the boys leave the huddle, heading to their bags which lay mostly haphazard on the grass. Vince doesn't feel the need to rush today. Usually he heads over to Third Street after practice to shoot a hundred free throws, something he started doing in middle school for extra year-round practice. But today he went earlier before school to shoot, barely finishing before the first elementary school kids started showing up on the playground, so that he would be free to spend however long it takes to decorate the freshman hallway.

He has a feeling the Ashleys are going to be obnoxious and they may very well be decorating the hall for hours until it's up to their standards. At least all his friends will be there. That will make the four hallway dictators a little easier to handle.

He sits down to take off his cleats besides TJ and a few of the others.

"Anyone wanna play a pickup game before we have to decorate the hallway?" he asks.

When they were younger, he and his friends used to play five-on-Vince basketball. Now, even though Vince's skills surpass those of his football teammates by a long shot, they can usually have a decent game with even teams. From where they practice in an empty field behind the gym, he can see that the basketball hoops are open. They'll have their run of the court.

The twins agree and so do Phil and a couple of the other guys. Vince turns to TJ, who is looking up at the giant clock tower on the top of the school.

"You need to meet the Ashleys or something?" Vince asks.

TJ shakes his head.

"I can stay for a minute," he says. "But I have to meet Spin after ballet."

"You _have_ to," Sam teases, a smirk on his face. "Since when does the Great Spinelli need an escort anywhere?"

A few of the boys look over in mild interest. TJ's typical wit malfunctions, and he just reaches into his bag to withdraw his beaten-up Cardinals hat. He fiddles with the red cap for a moment before putting it on his head – backwards, just like always.

"Uh, so, yeah, I'm gonna head over there now," he says, standing up and tossing his bag over his shoulder. He looks at Vince. "I'll text you once she gets out and we drop our stuff, see if it's worth coming back to help out."

"You're not coming?"

That's news to him. They've been talking about decorating the hallway, or really debating on how much of a dictatorship the Ashleys will run during the decorating hours, all week. TJ and Spinelli have both been adding to the conversation as if they would be there.

TJ shrugs. "I mean, it just depends on when she gets out and how tired she is. We switched to doing the float tomorrow, but we might try to come back tonight."

Vince narrows his eyes as TJ turns away and starts saying goodbye to the others. A pit forms in his stomach. Why didn't they tell anyone they weren't coming? He wouldn't have minded switching over to Friday too.

The rest of the group begins to stand as well and they all walk in the same direction until they split, TJ going toward the bike rack and the rest toward the basketball courts. Once TJ is out of sight, Sam elbows Vince in the side.

"How's _that_ going?" Sam asks. "It's gotta be real weird, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Sam and Dave share a look. "I mean, we all saw it coming–" Sam starts.

Dave continues. "But, it's gotta be a little weird, right? Them together?"

Vince grinds his teeth. It isn't so weird. Yeah, they spend a lot of time together but they've always done that. Even when they were young, too young to think like this, Vince would knock on TJ's door and Spinelli had already beaten him there, the perks of living three doors down.

"'Cause, I mean, you probably don't wanna hear about Spinelli that way," Sam says, nudging Vince again.

"I dunno. He doesn't really talk about it," Vince mutters. Then everyone shares a look and Vince tenses. "What?"

"Nothing," Phil says, the first one to shake out of whatever came over them.

His stomach seizes.

"Look, there's not much for him to say. They like each other, yeah, but they're not doing anything about it," he says. "He's not gonna say something until it's important in case it makes things weird. So let's just drop it and shoot some hoops."

Even as he says it, he doesn't quite believe it himself. The others do exactly as he suggests, none of them apparently too invested, but Vince's mind keeps spinning. It does bother him that TJ hasn't said anything. They haven't kept secrets from each other since they met and now TJ can't seem to tell Vince anything.

Like this summer, when they were supposed to go to football camp together after baseball camp, TJ didn't say anything about changing his plans to go to a regular overnight camp with Spinelli instead. It wouldn't have bothered him for TJ to go to camp with Spinelli, but Vince found out on one of the last days of baseball camp, just like everyone else. Now he can't help but wonder – if the topic hadn't of come up, would TJ have just not shown up to football camp without saying anything at all?

It just seems to be becoming a pattern for TJ to _forget_ to inform him about important stuff.

By the time the boys head inside, Vince hasn't received any word about TJ and Spinelli's plans to join them in the hallway decorating. He doesn't really know Spinelli's ballet schedule, but assumes she must not be out yet. Her soccer practices do end earlier than their football practices, but he doesn't know the exact time difference. It never really mattered. He rarely saw Spinelli, or really any of the rest besides TJ, after school now that they were in high school and all doing different activities.

He tries to shake it off. TJ said that they'd try to come and TJ always tries to stick to his word. Sure, he may not be telling Vince everything that's going on in his life right now, but his best friend isn't a liar.

He takes up a spot in the back corner, as far away from the Ashleys as he can. Twenty minutes into decorating and none of the four have even touched a paintbrush or a streamer. They made one girl cry and Ashley Q screamed at one of Vince's teammates, a burly defensive lineman about three times her size, who hung a sign a little crooked.

He pulls out his phone and texts TJ. _Q just took down Matt Harbor._

He waits for a response. TJ is usually pretty responsive to text. Once he sent him a message after midnight, thinking that TJ would see it in the morning, and he got a response back in about a minute. But a minute passes and nothing happens. Then two. Then three.

Then Ashley B steals his attention.

"What are you, like, a zombie? Come on, LaSalle! That sign isn't going to, like, paint itself!"

He stuffs his phone in his pocket and turns to her. Just to make her mad, he slowly drags the paintbrush across the poster board.

"Oh," he says, dragging the words out. "Am I too slow? You could always do it instead."

She crosses her arms and stomps her yellow heel on the linoleum floor.

"Just finish it! You're, like, not even doing a good job," she squeals. As she turns around to join her fellow Ashleys, she continues to complain. "Like, where is Spinelli? She's supposed to do the drawings!"

Vince snorts. At least he's not the only one unaware of TJ and Spinelli's after school plans.

He checks his phone. Still nothing. He sighs and leans against the locker, setting the paintbrush down entirely so he can cross his arms. He spots Gus and Gretchen at the other end of the hallway hanging streamers. They look like they're having at least some kind of fun, even if Gus keeps looking over his shoulder to see if the Ashleys are going to yell at him.

A shadow casts over him and Vince looks up. He hadn't even noticed Mikey walking toward him, too focused on other things. Mikey sits down beside him and glances at the unfinished sign Vince was working on.

"That looks wonderful," he says.

Vince shakes his head. "Thanks, big guy, but we both know it's awful."

He'll admit that he is good at most things and if he isn't he works hard to be good. Art is one of the few things he doesn't attempt. Why the Ashleys put him in charge of sign painting is beyond him.

Oh, probably because Spinelli was supposed to do it and she ditched.

"What's bothering you, my friend?"

Vince sighs and looks up from the half-finished poster. He should have realized Mikey would notice his foul mood. Of anyone in their group, Mikey is the most in tune to the sudden personality changes that signal trouble. He doesn't particularly want to get into it - partly because he knows he is probably overreacting and doesn't want Mikey to call him out on it. But regardless of that he is still hurt enough for Mikey to pick up on it.

Maybe it will be good to get it off his chest.

"Did you know TJ and Spinelli were both going to ditch?"

Mikey shakes his head, a frown just barely noticeable on his lips.

"I wasn't expecting it, especially considering TJ took charge of everything. I figured he wouldn't just let the Ashleys take over."

Vince grunts. "They're not ditching completely. They're coming tomorrow instead."

"Oh, that seems much more like our TJ," Mikey says. His grin slightly falters. "Does that bother you?"

"Yeah, I mean, we all decided to come today," Vince says. "It would have been more convenient for me to come tomorrow too, but I made it work to be with the whole group. Why can't they? And why wouldn't they tell anyone? They could have come after Spinelli's ballet stuff."

He checks his phone. TJ still hasn't sent anything back. He huffs and leans his head against the locker behind him.

Mikey eyes him for a moment before he speaks again.

"Vince, forgive me if I'm wrong, but this seems...more pent up than just a simple day switch."

"Haven't you noticed that TJ's keeping us in the dark?"

He explains what happened this summer, going into detail about how TJ told Vince about skipping football camp at the same time he told people like Sam and Dave, as if Vince wasn't his best friend and deserved to know more than a few days in advance. Then he tells Mikey about what happened this afternoon, about how the guys on the team thought it was weird that TJ hadn't said anything about Spinelli to Vince.

But it wasn't just this afternoon. Mikey is right, it's been a bunch of little things adding up. Even just this week, they had all decided to do a group costume for Spirit Week's first two days, but for days three and four do their own things. TJ and Spinelli matched for Twin Day Tuesday, which he knew was going to happen. But then on the third day they walked into school in matching footie pajamas, claiming they shopped together and both liked the outfit. Sure, he could buy that.

Today was Superhero Day and everyone knew TJ would come to school dressed as Senor Fusion. He had almost every comic book. Whenever a new movie came out, he was one of the first in line for the premieres. He was always comparing Fusion to the other Marvel and DC superheroes. There was no way he would come as any other superhero and Vince fully expected to spend his lunch period arguing with him about who was better – Black Panther or Senor Fusion.

But he didn't have that argument. Instead he was too focused on the fact that Spinelli, who had so vehemently opposed spirit week group costumes, seemingly embraced the concept overnight. First the shared footie pajamas, then today she walked into school with TJ dressed as Senor Fusion's one and only sidekick, Femme Fatale.

It isn't so much that they matched each other for three days in a row, it's that none of the others were asked to join. It just isn't fair. They're all best friends and they've always done things together or at least offered up the opportunity to everyone in the group. Yes, they may not have all joined in – Gretchen's hero choice of scientist Marie Curie didn't quite fit in with Senor Fusion, Black Panther, and Gus's The Flash costume – but it would have been nice to have been asked.

"It's just...I dunno," he finishes. "TJ's usually an open book about this kind of stuff. And now he's all secretive and weird."

"Have you talked to him about how you feel?" Mikey asks. "Because I'm sure TJ isn't trying to leave you out. My guess is that he's confused as to what is happening between him and Spinelli and he doesn't want to say anything until he's sure."

That is exactly what he told Sam, Dave, and Phil a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Just talk to him," Mikey says. "He probably doesn't even realize you're upset."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, big guy," he says, holding his hand out for Mikey and they bump their knuckles together.

Mikey stands to leave, heading back over to where Gus and Gretchen are working. Vince sighs and looks down at his poster. A little bit more work on it and then he can be done with it. He works double speed and while it's not the prettiest thing he's ever seen, it's fine. It'll do. He stands and heads over to join the rest of his friends, who have been put to work writing the names of every single person in their class on an individual star that they'll hang from the ceiling. At least this way he'll be with his friends.

He checks his phone on the way over. Still nothing and Spinelli is definitely out of ballet by now.

They don't end up staying that much longer. After an hour more work, the Ashleys deem their work suitable enough for their standards and let them free. He supposes he could have just left whenever he wanted to but it was actually sort of fun once he moved over to hanging out with his friends.

Gretchen nudges his arm. "Do you want a ride home? My dad's coming."

He smiles. Gretchen lives on the next street over from him, five streets down from TJ and Spinelli. It made hanging out together really easy as kids.

"Yeah, that'd be great actually," he says, reaching for his phone to let his parents know he's catching a ride.

On his screen is a new message alert. He has three unread texts from TJ.

 _Hey sorry i just saw this_

 _Spin was wiped so we went home_

 _Man i wish i could have seen that_

He shakes his head and clicks out of his texts. He'll see TJ tomorrow. He'll deal with the bubbling in his gut then.

…

It almost seems like TJ is avoiding him.

Vince knows that isn't the case. They don't have any classes together this semester and during the day they typically only see each other at lunch. But TJ shows up late to lunch, walking with Spinelli from her locker apparently, and insists he has to leave early to talk to the Ashleys about the float. He makes a big stink of it, how he wishes he could just stay and hang out, but nonetheless he heads over to the Ashleys' lunch table and sits down there, looking annoyed. Then they end up separated during the pep rally that afternoon.

Vince tries to catch him after school before the float decorating starts. Since all afternoon practices are canceled in preparation for the parade and game, he figures he could find him somewhere and get him alone for a minute. But when he finally tracks TJ down, he is standing with Spinelli and the Ashleys and a bunch of other people. He doesn't want to make this bigger than it needs to be. If he tries to pull TJ away from the Ashleys to talk privately, they'll gossip about it until it goes around the whole school.

So, he goes to shoot his free throws and then comes back to the school. He was voted homecoming prince for the freshmen class so he has to actually ride in the parade on the float the freshmen made earlier in the afternoon. Unfortunately, Ashley A won homecoming princess, so it's not exactly the highlight of his day or something he can use to forget about what's going on between him and TJ.

By the time he jumps off the float, he wants to wash his ears of Ashley A's incessant whining about his sub-par waving skills and feels like if he approaches TJ now he'll bite his head off.

He tells himself to take a few deep breaths as he waits for his friends to walk into the stadium complex. He waves to a few of his teammates, smiles at classmates, and leans against the fence until he sees Sam, Dave, and Phil.

"Hey, man," Dave says. "So, how bad was it?"

Vince rolls his eyes and adds pitch to his voice as he mimics Ashley A. "OMG, Vince, like, you're totally doing it wrong. It's like _this._ "

The guys laugh.

"I think you have to dance with her at the actual dance too," Phil says.

Vince groans. He knew that but had successfully gotten himself to forget about it.

"Great," he mutters. He looks around. Usually the football players all walk in together. "Where's Teej?"

Sam smirks. "Ah, he's still out there making moon eyes at Spinelli. He said he'd catch up. Wanna head into the stands?"

Vince shakes his head. "Nah, you guys go ahead. I'll wait for him."

"Suit yourself," Dave says. The boys promise to save them a spot and head over to the bleachers.

This is actually working in Vince's favor. Hopefully he'll be able to get a chance alone with TJ before they head up into the stands. Gus is already with the band. Spinelli, Gretchen, and Mikey will have to separate to get their seats. So, maybe this will be good timing. He can make it casual. He just needs to remember what Mikey said. TJ probably doesn't even realize what he's doing.

Speak of the devil.

"There he is!" TJ shouts. "Our very own Prince Charming."

Vince looks up and he sees his crew walking up. He grins. Mikey is decked out in school spirit, with red and blue beads around his neck from the pep rally earlier in the afternoon. Gretchen brought a book. He shakes his head and points to it.

"You did not bring Darwin to a football game," he complains.

She smiles. "No, I didn't. It's Neil deGrasse Tyson."

Spinelli crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. "It's still lame."

Before Gretchen can start something, Vince nods in TJ's direction. "The twins and Phil are saving us spots. You ready? I want to grab a water first."

TJ nods and turns to say goodbye to the other three. Mikey and Gretchen step away first, walking toward the bleachers, with Spinelli a half step behind. As she passes him, TJ bats one of her braids playfully and she turns to give him a look Vince can't see.

He rolls his eyes, but it's actually too perfect. What better way to transition into his conversation?

"So, what's up with you and Spin?" he asks as they head toward the locker room.

TJ falls out of step, but recovers quickly. "What do you mean?"

Vince nudges his arm. "Come on, Teej. It's so obvious. Even Sam and Dave noticed – and they spent all of Third Street underground."

TJ reaches up to fiddle with his hat, a dead giveaway that he's uncomfortable.

"Come on, you can tell me anything. It's not like I'm gonna make fun of you," he says. He smirks. "If I didn't tease you about your crush on Ashley A in fifth–"

"I thought we weren't gonna talk about that ever again," TJ interrupts.

Vince reaches his hand up, pretending to zip his lips shut. "My lips are sealed."

"Good," TJ says. They step into the locker room and each reach for a water from the cooler in the front. "I don't know why I thought that was a good idea."

"You didn't think. You felt." They leave the locker room and head back out into the stadium complex. "And speaking of feelings, you know you can tell your good old buddy Vin anything."

TJ shrugs and unscrews the cap to the bottle before screwing it back on. "There's nothing to tell."

"Really?"

"Really."

Vince raises an eyebrow. "So, what was with that braid flick back there? And the fact that she didn't threaten to strangle you for doing it. If I did that, I'd have a broken arm."

TJ shrugs. "I dunno. It's just how we've always acted with each other. She's my best girl friend."

Vince raises an eyebrow at the term.

"Never thought I'd hear you put a name to _that_ phrase," he says.

TJ puts his head down and stuffs his free hand in the pocket of his sweatshirt. They both remember the fiasco of the fourth grade 'my best friend' writing assignment. What was supposed to be an easy essay assigned by Ms. Grotke turned into a daylong break up of their crew. Vince knows TJ has been careful over the years to never outright call someone his best friend. The fact that it just came out of his mouth so effortlessly throws them both for a loop.

TJ opens his mouth three times before anything actually comes out.

"Look, Vince," he says, his eyes still focused on his sneakers. "I, uh..." He shakes his head. "We're just friends. There's nothing going on."

Vince frowns. Maybe he's just seeing things. Maybe TJ doesn't actually like Spinelli. It seems unrealistic that _everyone_ would think it if it weren't the case, but Vince would rather think that than the fact that TJ is lying to him.

"You're sure?" Vince asks. "Because you can tell me if there is. I won't say anything. You know that."

TJ nods. "I know," he says. "But we're just friends. Okay?"

"Okay," Vince says.

They nod between them and then head up into the stands.

…

Spinelli sits down on the bleachers and crosses her arms. She can't see anyway. A group of rowdy sophomore boys stood in front of her, Gretchen, and Mikey, blinding her for the entirety of the first quarter. She doesn't really mind being short, or well she's gotten used to it. When she figured out she wasn't going to get anywhere near the 5'6" that Galileo had promised her in fourth grade, she had nearly tossed Gretchen's little handheld computer over the fence. But, now it's whatever. She can't change it so why worry about it?

But the boys in front of her are tall and lanky and blocking her view. She only knows what is going on in the game because of Mikey's gasps and Gretchen's less-than-impressed commentary. Maybe she should have stood with the soccer girls after all. Or, maybe she just shouldn't have come period.

She pouts, even though there's no one around to notice. Mikey and Gretchen left for the concession stand just before the end of the quarter hoping to beat the line. She could have gone with them but declined, her mood making her grumpy and insistent on sulking in her misery. Neither of them put up much of a fuss to change her mind.

"Well, you look particularly scowly tonight."

Spinelli looks over just in time to see Meghan Rigalli flop into Gretchen's now-empty section of the bleachers. The other girl smirks and tugs at Spinelli's jacket.

"You're not even wearing school colors. Tsk, tsk," she jokes. "You're practically dating our future class president and showing no school spirit. TJ has some work to do."

Spinelli glares at her. "I'm not practically dating TJ."

She isn't particularly thrilled with the way the soccer girls have continued to tease her about TJ. Honestly, it gets her hopes up because Meghan and the others make it seem like it's so obvious that TJ likes her back and then nothing happens. Like yesterday, when TJ met her after ballet. Like usual, he had ridden his bike home and walked to the studio in time for her to get out. She had even seen him ignore Vince's text message while they were hanging out. But that was it. When Mrs. Detweiler had asked if she wanted to stay for dinner, she had declined when she usually says yes. Meghan had told her that if TJ wanted her to stay, he would have put up a fuss. But he didn't. He let her go and she saw him reach for his phone as soon as she was getting ready to go home. He wanted her to leave so he could talk to someone else, she supposes.

That's fine. It's whatever. She just wishes her friends would shut up about it.

"Oh, please tell me we're not doing this again," Meghan says. "Do I have to start keeping time stamped notes about it? Because I can."

"Your Megan is showing," Spinelli spits out.

It's harsh. Spinelli knows all too well the pitfalls of sharing a name with a clique of popular mean girls and spending the majority of elementary school hiding her identity, just as Meghan had at 98th Street. The only difference between them is that Meghan has the perk of an alternative spelling and the ability to introduce herself as "Meghan-with-an-H" when she found it completely unbearable every time someone made a comment about how weird it was she referred to herself by her last name. She started using her first name in middle school and Spinelli is pretty sure the only person who still calls her by her last name is Vance Lombardi – and of course the Megans themselves.

"Well, maybe you should be a little more Ashley," Meghan hisses back. "I'm _sure_ Ashley A would have no problem swooping in and getting what she wants like you don't seem to be able to do."

They do this sometimes. It's just that their personalities are so similar that occasionally they hurl insults back and forth. TJ hates it. He doesn't understand how they can have a strong friendship that relies on antagonism.

Spinelli turns away and huffs. She doesn't have a response to Meghan's suggestion. She's sure that is the case. Ashley A would have no problem going up to a guy and asking for a date. She is sure none of the Ashleys would have that problem, not even shy and quiet Ashley T. But that's not fair because this is different. This is more like Ashley A telling Ashley B she likes her – and she's not sure even Ashley A would risk her entire group's friendship to get what she wanted in that hypothetical situation.

Spinelli turns back. "Did you just come down here to insult me?"

Meghan shakes her head. "Nah, I got bored up with the others. I'm gonna sneak down to see Vance. Want to come?"

"Where is he?"

Meghan gives her a look. "Where do you think? He's in the athlete section."

The first couple rows of the student section of the stands are sectioned off every game for the freshmen and JV football players. The school line is that they're there just in case there's a need to pull someone from the stands onto the field, but that's just a bunch of hogwash. None of the boys have their equipment and it's just another special privilege bestowed onto the football players that none of the other athletes seem to get.

Spinelli frowns. "We're not allowed down there."

"We're athletes," Meghan says.

"You know they mean football players."

"Well, then, they should have been more specific." Meghan stands and puts her hands on her hips. "Since when have you listened to the rules anyway? Come on, you know you want to!"

Spinelli bites the inside of her cheek. She does want to go. She's sure Vince and TJ are on the complete other side of the freshmen section from Vance, considering Vince can't stand the kid, but if she can sneak in with Meghan then she can find her way to them. Then she'll at least have a better time at the game than she is right now. It'll be just like old times.

She pulls out her phone and sends a quick text to Gretchen, letting her know not to expect her to still be there when she and Mikey return. The last thing she needs is the two of them freaking out at her sudden absence. Then she stands and follows Meghan down the bleachers.

The section is a huddled mess of bulky boys and she isn't sure how they're ever going to find Vance or how she'll find TJ and Vince later. TJ's not the tallest boy in the bunch and while Vince isn't short like TJ, he's not the tallest either. There are plenty of boys in this section that tower over his average height. She's freaking doomed.

Meghan spins around and tugs at Spinelli's jacket, successfully pulling one sleeve off before Spinelli can wiggle out of reach.

"Hey!"

"Give me your jacket," Meghan insists.

Meghan is wearing her soccer sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. It's not that cold out, but the sweatshirts are thin. The boys teams' sweatshirt material came in a lot thicker and more comfortable. The girls teams' sweatshirts are more like fitted t-shirts with quarter-zips.

"You should have worn a better coat if you're cold."

Meghan glares at her. "That's not what I meant. You're going to go stand with TJ and Vince, right?"

Spinelli ducks her head. Was she that obvious?

"Maybe."

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to stay with me and Vance the whole game. Vince would have a freaking cow," Meghan says. She holds out her hand. "Give me your jacket. I'll swing it by tomorrow."

"I still don't understand why you need my jacket."

"You're beyond hopeless," Meghan says quietly. Then she lets out a breath. "If you are cold and TJ likes you, he will give you his sweatshirt. And he will let you keep it at the end of the night when you get home. That should put it through your thick skull that you don't have anything to worry about."

Spinelli eyes her curiously. "How do you know that?"

Meghan rolls her eyes. "Because that's how dudes roll. If they like you, they want other guys to know so they don't hit on you. You're friends with more dudes than girls. How do you not know this?"

"What if Vince gives me his sweatshirt instead?"

"If Vince gives you his sweatshirt then it means you need to forget about TJ because your lips are probably blue and you need to be checked for hypothermia," Meghan jokes. Spinelli glares. "Look, I will be shocked if Vince thinks to hand his over before TJ, okay?"

She nods and slides out of her leather jacket, watching Meghan put it on over her sweatshirt.

"Now let's go find the boys."

They slip in under the ropes and Meghan pushes her way through the section until she finds a place where she can stand on the bleachers. Spinelli stays in between, waiting while Meghan looks out into the masses. Finally, Meghan hops down and back into the aisle.

"I saw Vince's head about three rows down and toward the left," she says. "Let me know how it goes."

Meghan smirks and then ducks in the opposite direction as Spinelli needs to go, leaving her alone. She takes a deep breath. She can't believe she's actually going to do this. How pathetic. But at least this is sort of sneaky and she won't have to put her heart on the line first. She'd rather do something like this than just throw it out there that she likes him and have him do that thing he does when he doesn't want to hurt someone's feelings. He'll make a face in between a wince and a smile. He'll tell her she's great and she's his best friend but he just doesn't see her in that light.

Nope. She's not going to do that. The pathetic sneak attack is going to have to do.

She pushes her way down three rows of burly football players and then turns left, hoping Meghan didn't mistake the top of Vince's head for someone else. But, luckily, she knows she's going in the right direction when she sees Phil.

"Hey, Spinelli!" he says, waving her down as she pushes by some kid she doesn't recognize. She sees Phil turn. "Hey, guys, look who it is!"

It's almost comical how their heads bob out of the row of bleachers. Sam's head pops out, then Dave's, then TJ's and Vince's down at the end of their line. She swears TJ's face lights up when he sees her.

"Quick," Phil says, grabbing her hand and yanking her toward them. "We're close to scoring and you're gonna get trampled if that happens."

"TJ'll keep you safe," Sam says, smirking and winking. Dave slaps him upside the head.

Spinelli ignores the twins and keeps walking toward the end where TJ and Vince are standing. They make room and she finds herself, just as always, sandwiched with TJ on one side and Vince on the other, a clear view of the field in front of her.

"Wait, how'd we get behind by three touchdowns!" she exclaims.

Vince crosses his arms. "Have you not been watching? They've fumbled it like every possession!"

There's a loud groan through the stands, everyone turning back to the field to see a penalty flag. She feels a gentle tug on one of her braids and she looks over to see TJ staring at her, eyes slightly widened and a grin on his lips.

"How'd you get down here?"

She shrugs. "I snuck in."

"Troublemaker," he says. Then he looks down touches her bare arm. The action makes her shiver. "Where's your jacket?"

Well, that was quick. Then again, she wears her leather jacket everywhere so it must be like when Gus wears his contacts instead of his glasses – an immediately recognizable difference. She looks down at what she is wearing, which is just a soccer t-shirt she had worn for spirit day at school.

"Oh, um, I must have left it behind with Gretch," she says.

"I'm surprised you took it off."

She shrugs and remembers what Meghan said about her minimal school spirit. "Well, I was trying to support my team. You know, school spirit, rah rah?"

He snorts at her lack of enthusiasm. He knows her too well to fall for that line. She'd much rather be warm than spirited. But he doesn't push for a better reasoning.

"Aren't you cold?"

Yes. She's actually freezing. The downside to wearing a leather jacket three hundred and sixty-five days a year is that she is fairly confident she destroyed her natural temperature regulation. She is always cold, even in the summer.

"Not really," she says.

TJ rolls his eyes.

"Liar," he says. Then he reaches to pull his sweatshirt over his head and hands it to her. "Take this. I don't want you to freeze to death because you want to finally show some _school spirit_."

She slips it over her own head and then looks up at him again. He at least is wearing long sleeves, but it's still not quite warm enough for just that.

"Aren't you going to be cold now?"

He shakes his head and shuffles a little on the bleachers so he's standing behind her. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her close, so her back is against his chest.

"Nope," he says, his mouth right next to her ear. "You're going to keep me warm."

She is glad that he is standing behind her because she is sure her face is bright red. Her entire body has lit up like a flame. She wouldn't be surprised if she starts to sweat. She doesn't know what to do with her hands. Does she put them in the kangaroo pocket of TJ's sweatshirt? Is it too much to place them on his arms?

Tentatively, she puts one hand up and places it on his forearm and when he doesn't tense up, she moves the second hand. Finally, her heart stops racing and she leans back into his chest. This feels good. Natural. It doesn't feel like a sneaky pathetic attempt at figuring out what's going through his head.

She feels Vince move next to them, shuffling closer on the bleacher.

"Yeah, _just friends_ ," he says, and she knows it's directed to TJ, but Vince doesn't make an effort to keep it quiet. He scoffs. "Okay, Teej."

She keeps her eyes focused on the football field, pretending not to have heard any of what conspired between them because she knows what it sounds like. It sounds like TJ told Vince that she and TJ are just friends. But, maybe that's not it. Maybe it's something else, some inside joke or something else between them that she doesn't know. That's normal. She has stuff with Gretchen that the boys don't know.

Regardless, she drops her hands and puts them in the sweatshirt pocket. She and TJ are just friends. He has not made any moves to push them forward beyond that and it will be a cold day in Hell before she puts herself on the line for something like that. Her whole reputation would be ruined and potentially their friendship too.

….

 _Notes_

 _TJ will be the center of the next group of chapters – you'll hear more about what's going through his head when those are posted._

 _I don't want to have many OCs, so my goal is to only give major speaking roles to series originals where we know at least a little of their personalities. In the series, the Diggers can be pretty sarcastic – I'm taking a little bit of creative license with them, but I hope it still hits the same sort of vein. I thought with all their upper body strength from digging, they'd probably make good football players. Phil, as a cub scout, screams All-American Boy to me, so he got the football player theory as well. I know they're not friends in the original series (and that Phil is inferred to be friends with Gordy at Third Street, which is why Phil was still sitting with Gordy at lunch in the 8_ _th_ _grade chapter), but friendships shift as we age and sports does a great job of bonding people. Hence this group of friends for the boys._

 _Meghan Rigalli is going to be referred to as Meghan because that's how the gang knows her (despite how we were introduced to her in 'The Challenge' as Rigalli). I like the idea that she and Spinelli are two sides of the same coin, with certain things they're very similar on and certain things they aren't, such as their response to the Meghan/Megan and Ashley situations. I am also making the assumption that the Megans (who are mentioned in 'Dance Lessons' but not 'The Challenge') also go to 98_ _th_ _Street and are the Ashley doppelgangers and so, because of that, Rigalli's first name is also Megan. I've given her the alternative spelling Meghan in order to give the doppelgangers (Spinelli and Rigalli) additional small differences in personality. (For logistical reasons, it also helps with keeping them separate – having Vince and Vance without a good way to separate them is confusing enough)._

 _See you for January 2007, the winter of their freshman year. In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


	8. 9th Grade: January 2007, Pt 1

_Sorry this took so long to get out. Hope you enjoy._

 _..._

9th Grade, High School

Age: 14-15

 _January 2007_

…

TJ closes his locker door and spins around, ready to meet up with the rest of his friends in the cafeteria for lunch, but finds his route blocked. Standing in front of him is a dark-haired boy he barely recognizes. It's only after he speaks that TJ can place him. Although the boy's voice is much lower than it had been at Third Street, it still has the regal tone TJ remembers.

"TJ Detweiler," the older boy says. "Just the freshman I was looking for."

He extends his hand. "King Bob, to what do I owe the audience?"

Bob gives him a firm shake.

"Nothing bad, just a chat if you can spare a minute," he says.

TJ shrugs and nods his head. King Bob was never known for taking his time, too impatient to lend too much of his recess to any one thing. He figures he can give Bob his attention and still enjoy most of his lunch with his friends.

"I'd like to talk to you about your place as a former king," Bob continues.

In elementary school, Bob had always been concerned with his legacy. He wrote a memoir, which is still in the library somewhere, probably stuck in between all the old rulebooks in the student-created section. And, of course, there was the time he had the entire playground building mud pyramids while calling himself Pharaoh Bob. As king, TJ had never really put much stock in a legacy. If TJ could spend his year as playground king enjoying his recess while making sure everything ran as smoothly as possible, he was happy. He didn't need to be remembered for anything big or fancy, just functional.

So, he is a little shocked that Bob is taking time out of his day to talk to TJ about this, but at the same time he isn't surprised at all.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" TJ asks. "We're a long way from the playground."

Bob nods his head, so serious that it's nearly unbelievable. TJ looks around for Jordan and Jerome, ready for the two to jump out from hiding spots to tell him this is all a huge prank. King Bob was a Prankster Prince, after all.

"I'm assuming you're running for freshman class president."

TJ gives a noncommittal shrug. He has given it a small amount of thought. His friends all assume that he'll do it. And that he'll win with no contest, but he's not the only kid with a knack for leadership. CJ Rottweiler, for instance, was a playground queen, something completely unique. And he's sure there are a bunch of kids just like them from Washington Middle. The only person he has told about his doubts is Spinelli and she has been encouraging him to run regardless of whether he wins or loses. But, he isn't sure.

King Bob raises an eyebrow at his apathetic response. "You are, aren't you?"

"I haven't made my final decision."

"Why not?" Bob demands. He crosses his arms. "You were born to lead."

TJ resists the urge to rolls his eyes at Bob's dramatics. Some things just don't change.

Bob waves his hand, as if he's not even going to consider TJ's admission.

"You'll do fine," he insists. "You're good. You've always been good. It's why I insisted on you to ascend to the kingship."

"So it was you."

He nods.

That had been a rumor around the playground during TJ's reign, that King Bob had personally chosen him to succeed King Freddy. It wasn't that Freddy disliked TJ, but TJ questioned Freddy's authority too much. The older boy had a heavy hand when it came to punishment that TJ didn't agree with, so it wasn't too far fetched to believe that Freddy would choose someone else.

For a second, TJ considers who Freddy would have chosen, who Bob had ousted to put him in charge and why he insisted on replacing that kid with TJ.

"Everyone wants to rule the word, but not everyone should," Bob says, taking TJ out of his thoughts. "You have a lot of social capital, TJ. I know you know that. You'll do a lot of leading just because of it."

"It seems like a lot of responsibility."

"Well, you won't have much say in matters unless you run," Bob says.

And, with that, Bob lets him go.

TJ waits until Bob has rounded the corner of the hallway to move himself. All five of his friends are already sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria when he arrives. He takes the empty seat next to Spinelli and is thankful they're already mid-conversation because his mind is still reeling from his run-in with Bob.

He takes his lunch out of his bag, but then leans back in the chair, his hands wringing together in his lap. Does he run? A big part of him wants to do it, but he's just not sure. This is a lot bigger than being a playground king. There are actual events he'll be in charge of and budgets to deal with and people will look to him for things that are much more important than what to do with a kickball in the dumpster.

That's if he wins. There's a decent chance that he won't.

He sees a small hand rest on his fidgeting ones and he takes a few deep breaths to steady himself, focusing on Spinelli's chipped nail polish instead of his current inner turmoil. He only looks up at her when he feels like he finally has his breathing under control. Spinelli is staring at him, concern all over her face, and he gives her a single shake of his head, silently begging her not to say anything. He isn't ready to air this to the whole group yet.

She can read him too well though and he can see that she isn't convinced. So, before she can make a stink, he flips their hands and intertwines their fingers, giving her three quick squeezes. He hopes that will signal to her that he is okay for now. It seems to work at least a little because she turns back to the table, effortlessly re-entering the conversation as if she never left it. But after she makes a comment, she squeezes his hand back - to remind him that she hasn't forgotten about it, that she isn't going to let him distract her.

His heart, which _had_ calmed down, starts a frantic pace again when she keeps a hold of his hand. They hold hands all the time. When he meets her after ballet, she has barely stepped off the final stair to the sidewalk before she reaches out for him. He'll play with her fingers sneakily under the counter at Kelso's when he is convinced no one is looking. But they've never held hands for extended amounts of time near their friends.

He knows that whatever they're doing is playing with fire. His feelings for her aren't exactly kosher in terms of their group dynamic and he remembers what happened last time someone felt less valued. While they're not nine anymore, he is still the leader of their group and if he starts 'playing favorites' he might very well destroy his friend group.

Everything about this situation confuses him. At nine, when his friends all went their separate ways because he couldn't choose between them, it had been one of the hardest days of his life. He doesn't quite feel the same anymore. His feelings for Spinelli are so different than they are for everyone else. Yes, he loves spending time with the guys and Gretchen and he would hate to lose touch with any of them, but his stomach turns at the thought of losing Spinelli.

What worries him isn't the idea of starting a relationship with her. He knows she likes him. While it may not have been obvious before, it has been since homecoming. She had gotten visibly upset when Megan King had asked him to dance and while he had gone into the night trying not to throw his feelings for Spinelli in Vince's face, he had to do something when she walked out of the dance and into the night. So he followed her as she walked off, staying a few steps behind as she tore off her heels and walked barefoot down Grand Street, until she stopped at the corner where they needed to turn to their neighborhood. He grabbed her shoes and ignored the tears she hastily tried to wipe away so he wouldn't see, and then offered to race her to Kelso's. Old Man Kelso gave them milkshakes and space for them to talk, but they didn't touch the topic. He spent more time trying to cheer him up by blowing bubbles in his milkshake and making faces to get her laughing.

Now they just skirt around the subject. She wears his football sweatshirt in lieu of her leather jacket more days than not and the highlight of his day is walking her home from ballet.

He knows he is doomed. Vince has been suspicious for months and Mikey has not-so-subtly hinted his distaste for TJ's handling of the situation - or rather his lack of action. But TJ doesn't know what to do. Dating Spinelli changes the dynamic of the group, the group that everyone looks to him to protect. On the other hand, playing this game with her has the potential to blow up in their faces.

It feels like his options are Spinelli or the group as a whole. At nine that was an easy decision.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch period, and TJ sighs. Between Spinelli and King Bob his anxiety levels are going through the roof.

He stands and follows the rest of the gang out of the cafeteria. First semester he didn't share any classes with any of his friends. This semester he has gotten a little luckier in that he has gym with Vince. Usually the two walk down to the gym together after lunch, continuing whatever conversation they were having at the table, but today he stands toward the back of their group, the last to stand and the last to start walking. As Vince and Gus lead the pack out of the cafeteria, Spinelli grabs TJ's hand again and pulls him out of the hoard of students leaving for class and against a wall.

"What's going on?" she demands.

"I'm fine," he says. "Don't worry about it."

She crosses her arms. "You aren't fine. You spent all lunch in your head. So spill it."

He glances at the clock behind her and shakes his head. "You'll be late for class. I promise, we can talk later."

She eyes him. "Are you picking me up from ballet?"

He smirks. "When don't I?"

A small hint of a smile busts through her angry exterior. "Okay. Don't think I'm gonna forget."

He slings his arm over her shoulder to guide her back into the mob of students. She won't forget. When Spinelli wants to know something she is a master of wrestling it out of her victim. But, he does want to talk to her about it. He wants her opinion on his potential running. Hopefully talking it through with her will give him the courage to tell the rest of his friends his fears.

…

During gym class, they run a mile before they start their activities. Because it isn't timed, Vince doesn't feel the need to sprint out ahead of everyone. He and TJ jog, fast enough that they're still among the first group of finishers, but slow enough that both of them don't exert so much energy that they can't talk.

Vince absolutely loves gym class. Unlike the rest of his schedule, it's the one time of the day where he barely needs to try and his teacher will still love him. Easiest A he will ever get.

It's also his only class with TJ. Every one of his classes has one of his friends in it. He and Gretchen share the majority, their history and gym classes switched but otherwise they follow the same schedule. Their English class has Spinelli in it and Gus is in their earth science class. The only person he doesn't share a class with is Mikey and that's fine because he sees him at lunch. But he likes having gym with TJ because it's a class that's much more conducive to conversation and fun than the others. He also likes the one-on-one time that he seems to have so little of since they started high school.

The two boys race the last tenth of a mile and then are told to hang out until the majority of the class finishes to start a dodgeball game.

"LaSalle! Detweiler!" the gym teacher calls out. They both look up. "Can you set up the dodgeball floor?"

They nod and head to the bin so they can place the balls at center court.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Vince looks up from the ball bin and nods, squeezing the dodgeball in his hand to see if far it will fly when thrown. Sometimes the softer ones don't work as well.

"What do you think about me running for class president?" TJ asks.

Vince laughs. "I just figured it was a given."

Since Mr. Dudikoff announced that freshman class president elections would be held at the end of January and he was starting to take names, Vince was just waiting for TJ to announce that he had put his name in the running. This type of thing was right up TJ's alley and had been since elementary school.

"You think I can do it?" He gives TJ his _are you seriously asking me this_ look. "This is bigger than Third Street, Vin."

"If anyone's got this in the bag, it's you," Vince says. "Who are you gonna have run with you?"

TJ shrugs. "I don't know. I don't even know if I'm going to run myself, but you guys will be the first to know if I do."

"Oh, come on, you know you're gonna run," Vince says as they keep grabbing the balls from the bin.

"There's some stiff competition," TJ says.

Vince rolls his eyes. "Oh, yeah? Who? CJ? She's been to maybe three meetings all year. And that Hamilton kid from Washington is a pretentious dipshit. I don't care if he was king of Fifth Street or not, there's no way he'd beat you."

TJ shrugs again and Vince continues.

"Besides, I think everyone knows we need a president who can handle the Ashleys or else we're just going to be at their mercy, you know?" Vince thinks about how those four could steamroll over anyone unprepared. "You win, fill your cabinet with us, and they'll stay in their place. And if they don't we'll just sick Spin on 'em."

Vince can't help but grin, knowing that TJ is well on his way to folding. TJ has been his best friend for so long that it is almost too easy to read him. There is no doubt in Vince's mind that TJ will come to his senses, sooner rather than later, and will run for the class presidency. And win. TJ will definitely win. Among their freshman class, TJ is a popular kid. Everyone likes him, just as they always have, and Vince is popular too. Between the two of them, this election should be a no-contest.

It'll be just like at Third Street, when TJ chose him to be one of his bodyguards and then gave everyone else made-up and less important positions so as not to make them feel bad. When they win they can make Gretchen the treasurer and Spinelli can be the brawn they need if anyone decides to question their authority. Mikey and Gus will be the lovable bystanders, the cheerleaders they'll need while brainstorming ideas.

He can just picture it in his head. Four years of essentially ruling the school with TJ. Yeah, he could do that.

He aligns the balls at center court and turns back to TJ.

"If you need anything, I'm your guy," he says. "You just let me know what you decide."

TJ nods. "I'll think about it."

…

During the winter athletics season, TJ doesn't do a sport. He isn't tall enough or talented enough for basketball with Vince. After his braces came off, his mother forbade him from joining the hockey team. As quick as he is on the football and baseball fields, running for the sake of running never appealed to him so track was out of the question. That didn't leave him any options so he decided to sit it out instead.

His parents weren't upset at his lack of winter extracurriculars because it gave him more time to work on his schoolwork. Becky, with her high GPA at their father's college alma mater, is currently making him look terrible. His grades have never been as high as hers. At Third Street his teachers used to be excited at the beginning of the year, as they all loved Becky, only to tell his parents during the conferences that he was as quick as a whip but had a difficult time focusing. When he was in middle school, his parents used to make comments about him _growing out_ of his crazy monkey boy behavior; now his father has made it known that he thinks TJ is just being lazy and that _he will not tolerate that in his house, Theodore._

So, when he gets home he is supposed to do his homework and usually he does try to do that. But then his math problems frustrate him or seem to take forever and he decides to take a ten minute break, which turns into an hour break, and then he's doing his work late into the night - alternating between texting or online messaging Spinelli and doing math problems.

Now that it's the beginning of the second semester he knows he should start off on a good foot, but after he spends an hour on a couple of math problems that shouldn't take him that long, he sets his homework aside and decides to play a round of video games until he needs to leave to walk to the ballet studio. He dies with not enough time to play another round before he leaves so he turns off the system and heads upstairs.

Both his parents are in the kitchen. His father usually isn't home this early, but having traveled for work over the weekend he has been coming home early the whole week. He sits with a crossword puzzle book while his mother is readying a pot of something for dinner.

"Hey," he says, peeking his head in through the doorway. "I'm going to go hang out with Spinelli for a while."

"Are you going to do your homework?" his mother asks in a leading tone.

"Sure." When he sees both his parents frown, he thinks quick. His mother knows he leaves at this time every day and usually doesn't stop him, but his father is a lot stricter. "She's going to edit my English paper with me."

The fib seems to appease them both. His mother smiles.

"Oh, that's great," she praises. Then she turns to his father. "You know, Flo told me she got all As first semester."

His father turns to him. "Maybe some of those As will rub off on you."

TJ sighs and through his teeth says, "Maybe." Then he heads out before either of his parents can make any more comments.

He grabs his English paper out of his backpack for good measure. He wouldn't put it passed his father to want to see the red marks on it.

He kicks at the sidewalk as he walks toward Mademoiselle Pavlova's. He wishes his parents would stop comparing him to Becky all the time. He and Becky have very different gifts. While they both have drive, Becky has always been the more studious of the two and more of a brownnoser. TJ, on the other hand, would rather be outside, unconfined by convention. School had been manageable in elementary school because they had two forty-minute recess periods and gym class that went outside. Middle school and high school have been difficult to say the least.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and tries to stuff those thoughts down. He can't get sidetracked by that today. He needs Spinelli's opinions on his running for class president. He has so many other more important things than his parents' opinions of his lackluster schoolwork.

He takes up his typical spot sitting on the bike rack in front of the ballet studio to wait for her.

It isn't much longer before the doors open and the girls in Spinelli's class begin to walk out. The Megans walk two-by-two down the stairs, their noses up in the air. Megan King is complaining about something to the other three but they don't come close enough for him to hear. There are a few other girls that TJ doesn't recognize, girls that travel from other towns to be taught by Mademoiselle. The doors close and TJ crosses his arms. It isn't unusual for Spinelli to be the last one out. She isn't a huge fan of the majority of the girls in her class and she often gets pulled aside by Mademoiselle. It isn't much of a secret that Spinelli is one of her favorites.

Finally the doors open again and Spinelli walks out.

"Hey, slowpoke," he jokes. She rolls her eyes and he watches her slowly takes the stairs. He frowns. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," she says. "I just have this huge blister on my foot."

He winces. Recently, when he is ready on time in the mornings, they've been walking to school rather than riding their bikes. It doesn't happen often but of course today was one of those days so they don't have the option of putting Spinelli on her bike. He could have walked beside her, pushed her down the sidewalk with one hand on her handlebars and one hand on her back. But today they'll just have to tough it out.

The idea comes to him in a flash. He bends down.

"Hop on," he says. "Your chariot awaits."

He doesn't need to look to know she rolls her eyes.

"You're such a dork," she says, a slight chuckle fighting through as she finishes. But, regardless, she wraps her arms around his neck and he hooks his arms under her knees as he stands.

"So, a measly blister brought down the Great Spinelli?" he teases.

She slaps at his chest.

"You try running from track practice across town to the ballet studio and then standing on your toes for two hours and tell me your feet don't hurt." She rests her head on his shoulder. "I've been practicing a lot on my own too, every chance I get, so I shouldn't be surprised my feet are shot, I guess."

"Any particular reason you're trying to destroy your feet?"

He can feel her shrug. "Mademoiselle Pavlova is going to announce the solo for the spring recital soon and, I dunno, I really want it."

"You'll get it. Mademoiselle loves you."

"She isn't going to give it to me if I don't deserve it and I wouldn't want a handout anyway." She scoffs. "Besides, I want to beat those four no good powderpuffs all on my own."

"You're up against the Megans?"

"Not just them, but yeah," Spinelli says.

He shakes his head. He doesn't know a ton about the Megans. At school they stick to themselves, their noses up thinking highly of themselves no doubt. The Ashleys are the premier popular clique in school, partially due to their status as cheerleaders, and the Megans are just sort of there. At the beginning of the year he vaguely remembers the Megans petitioning for the school to also have a dance team, but it was vetoed due to a 'lack of funding' and the girls were told to join cheerleading instead. Since, the girls have all but dropped the whole high school hierarchy and focused on their outside endeavors.

All he really knows about them is what he hears through Spinelli, who rarely has anything good to say about the majority of the girls in her dance class. When Mikey came to the agonizing decision to quit dance in order to better pursue his singing, Spinelli lost the only real friend she had there and, if TJ was being honest, he thought she would quit too. But Spinelli is nothing if not determined.

Spinelli lifts her head and pokes a finger gently on his cheek.

"Don't think that because you're prying into my life I forgot about what happened at lunch today."

"And here I was thinking I threw you off my scent." He adjusts her on his back. "I actually do want to talk to you about that."

"Alright, well, you've got me. I'm all ears."

He tells her about running into King Bob before lunch and how the older boy insinuated that he thought TJ should run and how when he talked to Vince about it in gym Vince made it seem absurd that TJ had any doubts.

"Everyone just automatically assumes I will," he says. "And I guess I just don't know if I should."

"Well, why wouldn't you?" she asks. "What's holding you back?"

He kicks at a pebble while they wait to cross the street. He is glad that she's on his back so she can't see his face right now. He feels as pathetic as he probably looks, biting his lip and running his tongue over his teeth as he stalls. The walk signal glows and he waits until they're safely across the street to tell her what's really bothering him.

"I guess it's...everyone expects me to be president." He blows out a breath and when she doesn't cut in, he keeps going. "Being a leader is one of the things, one of the only things, that I'm really _really_ good at and...I don't know. I guess I just don't know what that means if I don't get elected. I guess I'm just scared of losing."

It's not so much the losing. He would be okay knowing that the person who beat him was a better choice. Maybe it all goes back to Becky and his parents. His entire life has been about being a leader. It was always what he could fall back on. He wasn't a great student, but he was a stand up classmate. He was dependable and loyal. If he doesn't get elected, what is left of his character? What is left for him to do if he isn't good at anything?

"Well," Spinelli says, her cheek pressed right up against his. "If you don't try, you automatically lose. So, it's worth giving it a shot, right?"

His lips curl upwards.

"That's some wise advice," he jokes.

"Well, you know, I have been known to dabble in advising from time to time," she says, going along with his humor. "With varying levels of success."

"This seems pretty solid, Advice Girl." His grin stretches as he remembers the old nickname Spinelli acquired briefly at Third Street.

"So, does that mean you're running?" He nods and her arms tighten around him. "Who are you gonna run with? Vince? Gretch?"

Either of those two would be logical choices. Vince was class president for the majority of the time they were at Third Street and Gretchen held the position herself for a year. They're both smart and both well-liked. Either would make a fine choice. But Vince is so busy with sports and Gretchen would get frustrated with his knack for procrastination. Then a better idea pops in his head.

"What about you?"

She stiffens against his back.

"Me?" she splutters.

"No, the other girl I'm currently giving a piggyback ride to," he jokes. "Yes, you."

"Why would you want me to run with you? I'm no good for politics, Teej."

"Come on, Spin. Think about it," he says. "We're a great team and we'd get to spend a lot of time together."

She can't argue that. He and Spinelli have always made a great team. Even before he liked her, he would always divvy everyone up during missions so the two of them were together. As for the time commitment of Student Senate, most of the meetings are during lunch which they already spend together. It would, however, give them an excuse to spend more time together working on their speeches for the election and then, if they were elected, overseeing the class projects and activities. It seems like a win-win to him.

Spinelli stays silent on his back. The fact that she dropped her instantaneous refusal means she is at least considering it. So, he throws in one last thing to seal the deal.

"Did you know that everyone at Third Street used to call you Queen behind our backs in sixth grade?"

"Wait, what?"

TJ hadn't known about that until his reign as king was over. The fifth grader he had chosen to succeed him, Justin Sanchez, had worriedly asked TJ if he needed to choose a queen. Originally, TJ had been confused, thinking Justin was being ridiculous, but then the kid let slip that the playground assumed that TJ had given Spinelli the title 'Royal Warden' as a cover-up and that they had been calling her 'Queen' behind their backs all year. He had felt so humiliated that Justin spent ten minutes trying to placate him, insisting that the playground didn't really think he was a girl-liker.

Regardless of whether Justin was lying or telling the truth, it didn't make him feel better because it was right around that time that TJ remembers first realizing he had a crush on Spinelli. After Justin let that cat out of the bag, he spent many restless nights wondering if subconsciously he _had_ chosen her new position as a cover up.

When he tells her the story, he doesn't tell her that part. He stops with the playground calling her Queen and Justin nervously anticipating having to choose one as well.

Spinelli giggles and it makes him grin. It's rare to hear her giggle. She tries to repress it so much, preferring snorts of laughter to keep up her rep. He loves hearing it, knowing that she is completely present in the moment. This is a part of herself that she doesn't let many people see and one of those people is him.

"See, it's you and me. We ruled over the playground. Why not the high school too?" he finishes. When she doesn't answer, he gives her a way out just in case. "If you really don't want to, I'll ask Vince. But I'd love to have you as my VP."

She blows out a breath. "I mean, it would be nice to spend more time with you at school."

"Is that a yes?"

"Ah, who am I kidding? I'm in," she says.

He gives a small whooping sound and spins them around on the sidewalk. Suddenly, all his fears seem to fall to the wayside. They've got this. They'll get elected and everything will work out. It has to.

They're debating election slogans when they make it home. His neighbor Mrs. Wilson is sitting on her porch and waves to them as Mr. Wilson comes out with a large glass of tea for the both of them. When the gang was younger the Wilsons were more than happy to have the kids traipsing through their yard as they traveled between the Spinellis and the Detweilers. All their initials are carved in the big tree in their backyard, complete with the addition of Gus's initials carved in during the summer between fourth and fifth grade.

Spinelli waves back when TJ can't, his arms busy hold her, and then puts her mouth to TJ's ear as they continue on toward her house.

"So, you know how Mrs. Wilson is a huge gossip?"

TJ shakes his head. Maybe he'd heard his mother talk about something Mrs. Wilson said over the years, but he had never taken much notice.

"Well, apparently, she saw us holding hands a couple weeks ago and _of course_ she told my mother."

TJ's heart starts beating rapidly. "Oh, yeah?"

His voice comes out smooth somehow. Miraculous, really, considering how jittery his gut suddenly became.

"Uh huh."

She doesn't add anything more. She has to feel his heart racing and the way his body has tensed up.

"And you're not gonna tell me how Bob and Flo reacted to their little Pookie holding hands with a boy?" TJ asks. "Come on, Spin. I'm dying here."

She giggles. "Are you really?"

"Spin!"

She full belly laughs now and he almost wants to drop her, but keeps a hold on as he turns into her driveway.

"Oh, come on. Are you really scared of Bob and Flo?" she asks. She adjusts just enough so she can reach over to pat his cheek. "How cute."

Spinelli's father is a private investigator, which is only slightly less intimidating than her far-fetched tales of him being a spy or part of the Mafia that she liked to tell through elementary school to keep up her rep. As goofy and quirky as Bob Spinelli is on a typical day, TJ is sure that Bob could murder him, bury him in some forest, and no one would ever know. Spinelli doesn't have a sister, so he doesn't know how her dad is going to react to her and boys, but he doesn't expect Bob to be welcoming him with open arms. His dad isn't half as close to Becky as Bob is to Spinelli and Sam Detweiler pulled his grandfather's World War I weapon out of a box in the attic and left it on display in the living room when Becky got picked up for Prom.

He stops at Spinelli's door and she slides down his back. The breeze feels cold where she was just pressed against him.

"You should see your face right now," Spinelli says with a smirk. She shakes her head at him. "Don't even worry about it. My mom pried a little but I threw her off. Convinced her that Mrs. Wilson is old and senile, all that jazz. It's not like we're going out…"

She trails off, looking up at him through her eyelashes. His stomach flutters as he takes her in. She is wearing his football sweatshirt over her ballet outfit, a messy topknot instead of the braids she wears now instead of pigtails.

"Uh, yeah."

He has to change this subject or else he is going to get himself in trouble. He still hasn't figured out how to navigate all this between the group and her. So, he changes his tone and reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Actually."

Spinelli's eyebrows jump up her forehead and her mouth opens just slightly.

He pulls out his English essay. "I was hoping you'd help me with this?"

She visibly deflates and it's only then that he realizes she thought he was going somewhere else with his train of thought. He wants to kick himself. What is he doing? He has to be more careful. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt her while he figures out what he is going to do.

"Oh, yeah," she says, reaching over to grab it. Her eyes immediately drop down to the pages rather than meet his. "Sure thing."

"Sorry for the sudden change in subject," he mumbles.

"No, it's fine," she says. She finally looks back up at him and it's like the last couple of minutes didn't happen. Her face shows no ounce of discomfort. "You know, I was thinking, if we can get you a good grade this half, maybe you can bump up an English class level. Then we can have class together next year."

He had been surprised, just as all their friends had, to see Spinelli's schedule at the start of freshman year. He knew she liked to read and that could have been the reason behind her being in the higher level English class, but it turned out that she was in honors classes across the board. When they all shared their schedules together at Kelso's, she had hidden hers until Vince grabbed at it and even Gretchen had expressed some surprise at what classes she had. Granted, in middle school it was easy for her to keep attention off her grades. The only class that was separated by intelligence level at Spiro T. Agnew was math, and even then it was only regular math and advanced math, those kids being put into the pre-AP classes upon entering high school.

She's not in all the highest classes. While she is still in an honors math class, there's the advanced track math that leads to the two different AP calculus exams senior year. Gretchen and Vince are in one of those and Gus is in the other track. But, regardless, they had all been shocked. Spinelli's excuse was that it didn't help her rep if people knew she actually worked hard and got good grades. She let it slip that Mrs. Grotke had helped her hide it and that after that she had gotten the rest of their teachers to do the same with their praise. That's the only time in recent memory TJ can recall Gretchen actually getting angry with Spinelli.

English is really his one shot at a class with Spinelli. It's the only class he does semi-well at on his own and with Spinelli's added guidance, he thinks he could get a high enough grade to warrant push to the honors class. He might have to pull out his charm as well, but he is willing to do it if it means spending more time with her.

"You really think we could do it?" he asks.

She nods. "Are you ready to work for it?"

School is not his forte. But if he could get an A, it would get his parents off his back and get him to a place where he could be in one of Spinelli's classes. That's the motivation he needs. He nods his head and watches as she takes her backpack off, reaching in for a colored pen.

And then they get to work.

…

 _There will be one more part to January coming up soon. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!_


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